That Day
by Jamie Hook
Summary: Accounts vary on what actually happened on That Day, but a few things were agreed upon- it involved a diamond the size of a small fist,a motorcycle named Selene,several murderers,a revenge plot,a roll of duct tape,a red dress,and a kitten named Bill. Romy
1. Prologue

The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters had it's own type of unique history involving the many and equally unique students that attended.

John Allerdyce and Bobby Drake pulling the 'pudding and latex gloves' prank went down in history.

Scott Summers' and Jean Grey's wedding went down in history.

Emma Frost arriving and reaping merry hell on said marriage went down in history.

Katherine Pryde hacking into The Pentagon went down in history.

But, a day that would forever be referred to as '_That Day_' in varying tones of hushed voice and waggle of suggestive eyebrow defined what exactly 'History' was.

Accounts vary on what actually happened on _That Day_, but a few things were agreed upon- it involved a diamond the size of a small fist, a motorcycle named 'Selene', several murderers, a revenge plot, a role of duct tape, a red dress, and a kitten name Bill.

And it all started 12:01 am.

That Day.

* * *

The clock on the wall read 11:50, the constant ticking of the second hand filling the dark hallway of the Girl's Dormitories in the Xavier Institute, where everyone was asleep, in bed, or getting ready for bed at this late hour.

Everyone except for two…

Logan was irked.

Though the concept of The Wolverine being a tad bit pissy wasn't a novel one, this particular silent rage radiated pure malice. T

here was someone in his house. In his halls. Among his children. Close to his 'kid'.

And it was_ pissing him o__ff_.

The smell that had been flirting with him for the past half an hour drifted past his nostrils again, refusing to be captured and tracked.

_Goddammit!_

He sniffed the air heavily again, scent still evading him. It was almost as if his own scent was so similar to this new one, they blotted each other out.

God. _Dammit!_

If someone was going to break into his house, he at least expected them to have the decency to have a scent.

How else was he supposed to track them down and stab them to death?

He listened intensely to the world around him from his crouch in the shadows, the sound of the ticking clock nearly deafening on his sensitive ears. But, not deafening enough to drown out the sound of a footfall.

_Sniktt._

A stinging sensation shot through his arms as the claws that made him a predator snapped out of his fists, his unique healing factor kicking in, stopping blood from gushing from the triple slashes in his knuckles, reaffirming the notion that he was one-of-a-kind. The blades jutting out of his fists glowed dully in the moonlight filtering through the windows as he stepped forward on silent feet.

The feet he was tracking, however, were not so silent.

He heard a heel strike the ground behind him.

He turned faster than a man with a metal skeleton should be able to, pinning the woman… girl… kid… person to the wall with one hand firmly gripping her upper arm, the other pressing his claws firmly against her throat. Denying any chance of escape without injury.

"Who are you?" He demanded, growl rumbling out of his throat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She didn't even flinch, much to his displeasure.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded again, claws pressing closer against her throat, earning a small ooze of blood.

She simply cocked her head to the side, dark curtain of hair spilling over her shoulder as her equally dark eyes dissected him.

"Odd," She finally said in a clipped tone. "I would have thought you would have been more physically attractive."

"I'm not playing games here, kid!" Logan snarled, more blood leaking from the nick at her throat as he pressed against her neck. "Who are you? Why are you here?" He repeated, only a few seconds from just not caring and sending his claws all the way through her throat.

"Both of those questions have the same answer." Her eyes hardened, the obvious objective behind them sharpening.

"It better be a damned good answer." Logan growled, glaring right into her eyes.

It escaped Logan's notice that the cut on her neck closed up.

A sharp, sardonic smile slid across her lips.

"You."

_Sniktt._

"Well… hell." Logan looked at the twin claws that shot out of her fists.

* * *

Rogue started awake as something collided with her door.

"The hell?"She grumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she looked over at her clock.

11:55.

Who the hell was outside of her door at 11:55 at night?

Rogue had long ago come to the understanding that weird things were going to happen to her so long as she stayed at the Xavier Institute. Hell, weird things would probably happen to her no matter where she went. It just seemed to be her luck.

That's why she hesitated in investigating the sound that echoed from the had sounded an awful lot like '_sniktt'_. No, not an 'awful lot'. Exactly. That had sounded_exactly_ like a_ 'sniktt'._

Rogue sighed heavily and pushed herself out of bed, only the short nightdress she had worn to bed protecting her from the cold night air as she made her way to the door, sighing the dark sigh of someone who knew something weird was about to threw open the door.

…And then promptly ducked under a clawed fist rocketing towards her.

"Who the hell are you?" She shrieked, looking up at the woman coated in leather with her fist stuck in the wall.

"Don't mess with me, kid." She growled in a very Wolverine-like tone as she cocked back her leg and let fly a kick aimed at Rogue while her claws were still imbedded in the wall.

Rogue grunted with displeasure as she had to bend her body at an awkward angle to avoid the kick.

The woman finally yanked her fist out of the wall by retracting the claws, unleashing them again with another_ sniktt_ as she launched forward at the Wolverine next to the window, who was slightly preoccupied trying to relocate his shoulder and recovering from slip disk.

Rogue pounced forward, tackling to woman to the ground before she reached Logan, both of them falling to the round in a tangle of limbs.

The woman recovered first, twisting out from underneath Rogue, grabbing Rogue's wrist as she went before pinning it between the other woman's shoulder blades.

Rogue gasped with pain as her shoulder was ground into the hardwood floor.

"Stay out of the way, kid!" The woman snarled. "You have no idea what I've been through because of that man!"

"I don't care!" Rogue growled, levering herself out of the woman's grasp and kicking her in the stomach.

The woman used the force of the kick to her advantage, flipping backwards, landing next to where Logan was…

…had been a moment ago…

"Lookin' for me, darlin'?" Logan rumbled darkly, stepping up next to Rogue.

The woman rolled her shoulders as she took a step forward. "As it so happens, I was."

_Sniktt_.

Another two blades shot from the toes of her boots as the cart-wheeled forward.

Logan cursed, pushing Rogue out of the way of the woman's wrath.

"Kid," He grunted as one of the claws tore through his chest, but quickly healed up. "Go find 'Ro!" He shouted in an attempt to remove her from this dangerous situation.

_"You_ go find 'Ro." Rogue snapped back, kicking in the woman's knees and then dipping low to avoid a sweep of claws_. "I'm_ busy." Like hell she was going to back down from a fight.

Logan caught the clawed fist with his own, metal meshing together with a clang.

"You have a death wish?" He growled at the woman.

"I'd have to be able to die for one of those." She wrinkled her nose bitterly, kicking Logan off of her and elbowing Rogue backwards into a wall before launching forward into another attack.

"Who are you?" Logan panted, barely dodging another straight swipe at his chest.

"I told you once." She growled, turning sharply to kick Rogue's feet out from underneath of her, sending the younger woman to the ground.

"Ah!" A sickening snap echoed from Rogue's ankle as the woman's heel connected with it sending her to the ground.

"Kid!" Wolverine howled, rushing forward.

"Not so fast." The woman stepped between him and his 'kid'. Which was absolutely the dumbest place in the world for someone to find themselves.

"You have three seconds to get out of the way." Logan growled deeply in his throat, eyes dark, tone beyond serious. "Three,"

Rogue sucked in a pained breath, ankle already three shades of purple, undeniably broken.

"Two."

The woman ground her heel into the floor, dark smile stretching her lips. _This_ is what she had come for.

"One."

The door at Logan's back opened, a little red head poking her head out into the hallway, wondering what all the noise was about.

"Come on, Wolverine." The woman smiled darkly. "Fight me."

Logan launched forward and thrust his claws into her stomach, twisting his fist as he made contact at the same moment as her foot came up, blade going straight through his thigh. Blood spilled everywhere.

"AHH!" Theresa 'Siryn' Cassidy screamed in shock and horror from her spot in the doorway as blood spilled in front of her eyes. Her mutation manipulated the scream as it tore from her lung, going super sonic, waking every soul in the Mansion.

Wolverine and the woman screamed in agony as the shrill shriek assaulted their sensitive ears, both abandoning their attacks to crumple on the ground, hands over ears.

The chime of the clock striking midnight was lost in the screech.

"Teresa!" Ororo Munroe shouted as she tore down the hall, stumbling around all of the students falling out of their rooms, holding their ears as well. "Teresa, what's wrong?"

Teresa's screaming finally cut off when Ororo reached her side.

Logan and the woman started to prop themselves up, holding on to their heads, moaning in pain.

"Who the hell are you?" Jubilation Lee demanded of the intruder, sparks flying off of her fingers.

"Good question." Ororo's eyes started to cloud over.

The woman's eyes narrowed as her head cleared and she flicked her vision around the hall. Too many people. She couldn't take them all. All she wanted was the Wolverine.

A plan. She needed a plan.

Wolverine's 'kid' moaned lightly in pain behind her.

A spark of a grin crossed her lips.

"Look," Logan straightened himself and took a step towards her.

She scrambled backwards faster than anyone could comprehend, grabbing the kid and hauling her upright in front of her chest, two claws held horizontally across her throat.

"Well… hell." Rogue growled, stumbling backwards on one foot.

"Any of you take one step closer," She addressed every mutant standing in the hall. "She dies."

She started slowly walking backwards, half dragging the girl with her.

"Do you realize what you're doing?" Logan matched her step-for-step while everyone else was cowed by the threat.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." She smiled, back hitting the window. "I only want you."

"Logan," Rogue growled. "Stab her."

"Try it," Her grip on Rogue's neck tightened.

Logan hesitated.

"Good boy," The woman's tone was patronizing. "Now, me and kid here are going to go for a little walk." She kicked the window hard enough to shatter it, a warm wind blowing through. "You find us." She locked eyes with Logan. "Come alone or she dies."

"Logan," Rogue growled. "Don't you dare-."

"Done." Logan cut Rogue off. "But, if you hurt her…"

"Death threat, death threat, snarl, growl," She rolled her eyes. "I get it."

"Logan!" Rogue screamed as she was yanked out the window.

The clock on the wall read 12:01.

And without further ceremony, '_That Day_' began.

* * *

_(Jamie): Happy Birthday to me! (Technically it's tomorrow, but whatever.) I love this story. I haven't even written this story and I love it. Anything you think might happen will probably happen! There will be cameos out the yin yang! And Remy. Of course Remy. Psh! Next Chapter, dearies, next chapter._


	2. Awkward Moments brought to you by B&E!

Rogue crossed her arms over her chest, simply radiating displeasure from where she sat on top of a stack of papers for several different reasons. One, her ankle was so badly broken it hurt to think about it too hard. Two, she was being held hostage, which just didn't sit well with her. Three, this place was a disaster. The general feel about the building she had been dragged to declared that at some point in time there had been someone somewhere that had organized all of the papers and kept the Stone Age computers clean. By Rogue's estimation, that man had been fired about three years ago.

The leather-clad woman who had removed her from the Institute stood in front of her, glaring at the entrance.

Rogue shifted uncomfortably in the darkness of the basement, ankle throbbing with every move she made. She had to get out of there. All she needed was a two step plan.

Step 1- Escape.

She had yet to figure out how exactly she was going to pull that one off seeing as how all she had was a busted ankle and a nightdress on her side.

And, the woman was covered from head to toe in thick leather- gloves, boots, jacket. There was no way that Rogue was going to be able to get the drop on her to be able to touch her face. And even then, she'd have to crawl away before she woke up.

Step 2- Find Logan. Inform him of safety.

Although, she had no idea how she was going to pull this on off either, seeing as how he was probably already out for blood.

Maybe if she could provoke the woman she could get close enough to absorb her.

Worth a shot.

"So…" She started awkwardly, attempting to use a little thing she had picked up from people who were not Logan called 'tact'. "This is a nice hideout you got goin' for ya' here." She was smiling sweetly by the time the woman glanced over her shoulder.

"It's not a hideout." The woman sniffed, turning back to glare at the door. "It's where the city keeps building plans."

"It's a lot of building plans." Rogue looked around the cluttered room again.

"It's a big city." The woman shot back without looking. "This place is closed down for the week, so no one's going to show up and save you. Don't get your hopes up." She growled in another very Wolverine-like tone.

Actually, upon further reflection, the woman had many Logan-esque traits. The same snarl, the same 'I _will _have my goddamn way' attitude, the same wrinkle between their eyebrows when they were mad beyond reason. Oh… and the claws. …The adamantium claws shooting out of their fists were a little similar too…

Who was this woman?

"Who are you?" Rogue asked bluntly.

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" The muscles across the woman's shoulders tensed.

"I mean, what's your name?" Rogue clarified, tone still snippy.

"I don't have one."

"Oh…"

"The scientists used to call me X-23," She turned to look at Rogue. "But that's not a name, is it?"

X-23 clenched her teeth together as she glared down at her hands, eyes dark.

Rogue shifted awkwardly as X-23 had a moment.

"You know what I think?" Rogue offered uncomfortably, deciding to be nice for a moment.

X-23 rolled her eyes, but before she could stop herself, "What?"

"I think you look like a Laura." Rogue nodded knowingly.

"Laura?" X-23 tried out the word on her tongue, wrinkling her nose as her lips fumbled around the new word.

"Laura!" Rogue giggled at her expression/

"Hmm." X-23 went into deep thought about the name.

It was at this point that Rogue had to remind herself she was attempting to _provoke _the woman, not make friends with her. But, it was just so hard to be nasty to her when she reminded her so much of the only person she really considered family.

"Can I ask you a question?" Rogue called.

"You just did."

Rogue rolled her eyes, supposing she walked right in to that one. "Why are you after Logan so bad?" The drawl of her accent did nothing to cushion the harshness of the question.

X-23's eyes darkened, mood shifting as far away from happy as possible.

"I've been through hell because of that man." She snarled. "I'll warn you once, kid, you get in my way one more time-"

"Stop callin' meh 'kid'!" Rogue lost her patience as well. Only one person was allowed to call her 'kid' without getting their ass beat. And it didn't matter how much this woman reminded her of him, like hell she was getting away with it.

X-23 looked slightly taken aback and confused.

"Isn't 'Kid' your name?" Her eyebrows wrinkled with confusion.

Rogue smashed the heel of her hand into her forehead.

* * *

A tall figure dismounted a motorcycle in front of the building, looking around warily at the urban setting he found himself in. The buildings stood close enough together that one could probably jump from window to window if they got a good running start, though thick wire cables connected some, reminiscent of when this area had been apartments rather than offices.

With a small smile and a smaller salute to the motorcycle, the man sauntered up to the building.

* * *

"Why tha hell would you think mah name was 'Kid'?"

"I staked out the Institute for two weeks. All Wolverine ever called you was 'Kid'." X-23 pursed her lips, displeased with having inaccurate information.

* * *

Odd.

He had fully expected some sort of lock on the front door, and had been wholly prepared for it, and thus was surprised to find the lock skewered through, leaving the door swinging open.

A nagging thought in the back of his mind told him not to go in.

The money in his pocket, however, was all for going inside.

* * *

"I would apologize, but I couldn't be less concerned what your name is." X-23 rolled her shoulders, resolve setting back in. "I'm just here to kill a Wolverine."

Rogue smirked.

"For hatin' the guy so much, you two have a lot in common." She commented in an off-hand sort of way, keeping a constant vigil on the woman in front of her. "He woulda said the exact same thing… well, maybe not 'exact', he probably woulda cursed more and ended with 'bub', but it woulda hit the same tone."

X-23 bristled, eyes flashing with hatred.

Rogue ran with it.

* * *

This place was a pig's sty.

Papers everywhere, books scattered about, computers nearly toppling off of desks. And this was only the front room! He didn't even want to _think _about the basement.

How the hell was he supposed to find what he was looking for if there wasn't even a _thought _of organization in this place?

Scoffing angrily, he started to root through papers.

* * *

"I mean you two are just peas in a pod," Rogue grinned, watching the muscles along her spine tense. "Hell, you could be his clone."

And those were the magic words.

"ARH!" X-23 screamed with rage as she launched herself at Rogue.

* * *

"ARH!"

"The hell?" He whipped around.

Without his permission, his feet started to move him towards the basement.

He sighed the sigh of a man who knew something _weird _was about to happen to him as he opened the door.

"Er…"Remy LeBeau looked around with the realization either he was the luckiest man in the world, or had just royally screwed himself over. "_Bonjour__." _He tried to grin at the two women.

The one woman, coated completely in skin-tight black leather, was holding another girl who was small, curvier, and much more scantily clad, by the throat, keeping the girl suspended in the air with nothing more than her grip on the younger woman's neck. The girl, who had the most intriguing white and brown hair had been waving around her hand frantically at the other woman's face, obviously attempting to gain contact. The very short, very clingy night dress she was wearing made Remy lean more toward 'luckiest man in the world', while the blades sticking out of the older one's fist told him he should probably just go with 'screwed over'.

"Well," Rogue choked out, X-23's hold on her trachea making it hard to breathe. "This is awkward."

_

* * *

And the next chapter is officially where I start making shrines to this story. You may not see it now, but… just… love. I love. Anyways! I just wanted to clear up TristeAlma's question about the versage of this story. (And, yes, Rogue does have her powers, sorry I didn't make that clearer :C) If you really,_really, _wanted to you could make this movieverse (X3? I'm sorry, what is this 'X3' of which you speak?) But it has so little to do with anything canon you could throw this anywhere! So my-verse? Let's go with that!_

_And now, BIRTHDAY CAKE FOR EVERYONE! (Actually, there's a really fun story about that cake that includes the words 'and that's how I fractured my patella, and no one got cake for fear of choking on glass.')_


	3. Guardian Angels can't fly

_Do we like out author's note at the top or bottom of these chapters? Oh, hell, I'll just go back to havin' 'em both. :D. In this Jamie-verse (which probably needs a better name) there is no Wolverine: Origins… only Zuul… (Heh. Ghostbuster's joke. Aren't I just the culturally savvy one?)_

…_hmm… this is odd… usually I have more snarky things to babble about at the top of these things… I feel so… boring right now. :C. Me and my fractured patella* (it was totally a bookie who crashed my party :D)are gonna go eat some ice cream while you guys read…._

_THIS!:_

* * *

Now, in this room, in this empty building, in this large city, there were several decisions to be made.

Remy LeBeau, for one, could walk away, grab what he had been sent to get, and never have to think about this particular incident again. _But _as he had grown up in a strict house, there were several things that had been pounded through his thick skull as 'Things _Tante _Mattie Will Tan Your Hide For'. On that list, directly underneath 'tracking dirt in the kitchen' was 'letting an unarmed woman get hurt while you could have done something about it.'

He sighed roughly and squared up his stance.

X-23 on the other hand, had a much simpler decision to make. She could either stand there with the pulse under her fingers thrumming erratically as the human vampire attached to it quickly worked her toxic fingers under her glove, having abandoned the quest to reach her face. _Or _she could drop the girl, kill the man, and wait for the Wolverine to show up in cold, bloody silence.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to allow herself to get zapped by the little succubus here, and she wasn't getting any younger.

There was a shrill cry of agony as X-23 let go of Rogue's neck, sending her crashing to the ground, twisting her shattered ankle.

"_Merde." _Remy growled, the glowing of his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he always wore as he glared at the woman in leather.

X-23 pounced forward; the _sniktt _of her claws slashing their way out of her knuckles was lost in her scream of fury.

Remy whipped out his telescopic bo, swiping under the woman's feet before using it to vault himself over her, reaching the girl before she could recover.

"Y' okay, _chere?" _He asked the girl quickly, helping her into a sitting position, papers sticking in her hair and slipping down the back of her nightdress.

"Just peachy." She hissed. "And the name's Rogue, not '_chere'._"

"Sure thing," Remy grinned at her, picking a few pieces of paper out of her hair. "_Chere."_

She looked like she was about to say something more, but cut herself off as she shoved her palms against his shoulders, pushing him out of the way of a clawed strike aimed at the back of his neck.

"_Get away from my collateral." _X-23 shouted.

There were just so many things wrong with that sentence Remy couldn't even begin to count them, quickly drawing the conclusion that the one in the nightdress, Rogue, (whatever the hell kind of name that was) was not only being held against will, but for some kind of ransom.

"Damn that woman and her hide tanning lists." Remy spared a single curse for the rules ingrained in his brain as he yanked a deck of cards out of his duster pocket. "I suggest you stand down." He growled at the woman in leather as the cards being cut between his fingers started to glow a pale magenta.

"I suggest you smart up." X-23 growled right back, launching forward again, claws first.

_Boom._

Remy dipped under the explosion his charged cards had caused and sprinted to Rogue, who was attempting to stand up on one foot.

"Ow," She moaned, tears of pain pressed tightly against her eyes.

"We don' have time f'r this!" Remy snapped, simply scooping her up in his arms.

"Ah!" Rogue shrieked in surprise. "Don't touch mah skin!"

"'M wearin' gloves!" He pointed out, not actually caring at the moment _why _she had asked for that in particular, simply more concerned with _how _the hell they were going to get out of there. "We gotta go!" He tossed her over his shoulder and bolted to the door as X-23 started to pull herself out of the wreckage.

Rogue squeaked in surprise, but chose to hold her tongue as she watched X-23 slash her way through any obstacle in her path. She made the quick decision that she didn't exactly care who this man was, or what he had just done with that deck of cards, he was being her guardian angel at the moment. Not to mention dead sexy, but, there were some things an untouchable girl just didn't linger on.

"What's the quickest way out of here?" Rogue shouted over her shoulder as the man kicked the door shut behind them. The sound of a body colliding with the wood on the other side rang loudly in her ears.

"Front door's wide open." Remy commented, jumping only slightly when four claws pierced the door frame.

"Get back here!" X-23 shrilled, making quick work of the door in her path.

"Faster!" Rogue hid her eyes under her hands as she watched the feral woman tear after them, simultaneously groaning with discomfort as his shoulder dug into her stomach and her ankle throbbed with pain. "Faster would be better!"

"I don't go faster!" Remy shouted as he rounded a corner at top speed, nearly losing his footing on the papers scattered everywhere.

"She has a metal skeleton for Christ's sake!" Her voice rose high with panic

"But she ain't draggin' a heavy as hell _fille_ with 'er!" Remy didn't appreciate being called inadequate in any way.

The open door loomed at the front of the hall.

"Sir," Rogue snapped, glaring over her shoulder as her accent spiked with displeasure. "If mah ankle weren't busted up, Ah'd-"

X-23 leaped forward, planting one foot against the wall of the hallway before using it to launch herself in front of the sprinting Remy and Rogue, kicking the front door shut as she spun around to glower at them.

"_God-." _Remy growled.

"_Dammit." _Rogue finished.

"Give. Her. Back." Two more blades snapped out of X-23's boots.

Rogue whimpered on his shoulder.

Remy thought quickly, whipping off his sunglasses, charging them beyond what he had deemed 'The Safety Zone', and chucking them with all of the force he could muster before sprinting the other way.

Smoke from the explosion wafted up into the air thickly, setting off the fire alarm and sprinklers in the building, completely drenching Remy and Rogue in a matter of seconds.

"Where the hell are we going now?" Rogue shrilled with panic and vexation. It was one thing to be completely useless in a nightdress. It was another thing entirely to be completely useless in a nightdress, soaking wet. And that is where she drew the line.

"I got an idea…" He kicked open the door to the stairwell. "Kinda…"

"Great." Rogue said sarcastically, grunting again in discomfort as he shoulder jabbed her stomach with every time he took the stairs three at a time.

"Y'r just gonna havta trust me!" Remy snapped, only slightly winded as he knocked open the third floor door, the sounds of snarling pursuit not far behind.

"Trust you?" Rogue nearly shrieked. "I don't even _know_ you!"

"Call me Remy," He grinned over his shoulder at her.

Rogue gasped when she caught sight of his red on black eyes shadowed lightly by the wet auburn hair that fell over his brow, slightly mystified.

Remy either didn't notice, or was too busy finding a window to care.

"Arh!" X-23 grunted as she slammed her shoulder into the locked door. "I need her!" She screeched.

Remy kicked at a window.

X-23 kicked at the door.

The window gave.

The door did not.

Not yet, anyway.

"What are we doin'?" Rogue was very close to whining at the feel of the warm summer winds sweeping through the now open widow as she was repositioned.

"I need y' to wrap y'r legs 'round m' waist." Remy instructed, thinking quickly as he looked out the window. Yeah, he could do this.

…Maybe…

"What!"

There was another thud at the door.

"Wrap y'r legs 'round m' waist and hold on f'r dear life."

Finally, X-23 simply gave up on kicking the door down and started slashing.

"But, I-." Rogue started.

By now, there was a good sized chunk out of the door.

"Do you wanna live?" Remy questioned harshly.

Rogue groaned, pale cheeks absolutely aflame with embarrassment as she went about wrapping her very long, very bare legs around his thin waist and locking her arms around his neck, their wet chests pressing together.

"See," Remy grinned, stepping out on to the window ledge. "This isn't so bad."

The door from the stairwell shattered

One of the thick metal chords that had been put to use perching satellite dishes, running laundry, and holding up an assortment of other odds and ends when these building had been apartments loomed in front of Remy, though he was very sure it had never been used for anything like this. Hell, he didn't even know if it would hold, but he was sure gonna try.

"Have you ever done something like this before?" Rogue looked over her shoulder with wide eyes.

"Once," Remy grunted as he stretched his arms out perpendicular to his body and started to wander out on the thick chord, breathing a single sigh of relief as the chord held.

"Where is she?" X-23 bellowed from back in the building.

"_Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left,"_ Remy mumbled to keep himself on track, moving forward slowly but surely as he pressed forward heel-to-toe, weaving grotesquely on his high-wire escapade.

"Ah'm gonna die." Rogue moaned.

"Hold on tighter!" Remy snapped, knees nearly buckling.

She pressed herself closer to him without another word, though, secretly, Remy could have made it all the way across without her holding on so tight, but had recently developed a new motto of 'If I'm about to do something stupid, it might as well be with a beautiful, scantily clad woman wrapped around me.' And so far it was working out pretty well.

"You!" X-23 screamed when she reached the window, causing Remy to nearly stumble. Rogue instinctually held on tighter, cringing her shoulders.

"_Merde,_" Remy growled for what seemed like the nth time that day, making an effort not to look over his shoulder as he continued to stagger his way across the wire.

Rogue watched with eyes full of absolute horror as X-23 raised her clawed fist above the wire.

"Give her back and I'll let you both live." X-23 growled menacingly, completely serious about her threat.

"How we doin' on this 'plan' of yours?" Rogue asked, unsure if she actually wanted to know the answer.

"Could be better." Remy grunted, wavering dangerously as he attempted to double his pace.

"Fantastic." Rogue hissed sarcastically.

"I don't see _you _commin' up with any plans here!"

"If I did, they'd sure be a hell of a lot better than 'let's scale the _laundry wire _between buildings'!" Rogue became more vicious when she was panicked.

"Three more seconds!" X-23 yelled.

"Oh, please, share with me y'r genius plans, oh wise one!" Remy also became very vicious when under stress.

"Two more seconds."

"Fine!" Rogue snipped. Her fingers snaked into his pockets.

"Last chance!"

"How many decks of cards do you need, boy?" Rogue continued rooting around until she found what she was looking for. Remy was still precariously making his way towards the other window, quite close at this point.

The wire was cut at the very same moment Rogue hauled Remy's bo staff out of his pocket, tripping the telescopic switch as she twisted in the air, lodging the staff in the wall as she went down, Remy scrambling to keep a hold on her.

Rogue grunted with pain as the staff was wrenched out of her grip purely by the force of their decent.

Though her quick thinking hadn't saved them entirely from the fall, it had bought them enough time and inertia that when Remy let go a split second before Rogue did, he hit the ground unharmed.

He put out his arms and waited a half a beat before Rogue came tumbling into them.

"See…" Rogue's teeth chattered with extra adrenaline. "Told you I could come up with a better plan."

"That y' did, _chere." _Remy grinned, rather impressed with the both of them.

"NO!" X-23 howled from the window.

"Time t' go." Both of them sobered quickly and Remy quickly took off towards the motorcycle he had arrived on.

"I think I'm gonna pass out." Rogue moaned as she was thrown on the back of an obviously very expensive black motorcycle with the name '_Selene' _scrawled across the gas tank in silver paint. There was only so much excitement a person could take in a half an hour.

"Try to hold off on dat 'til we're well gone." Remy threw over his shoulder as he tossed her the only helmet. "Fire department's gonna show up in a minute or two, and I don't want t' be the one that has t' explain t' 'em what happened." Or, why exactly he had been there in the first place.

"Sure thing." Rogue quickly put on the helmet, trapping the few papers that were still stuck in her hair.

"Now," Remy grinned as he revved the engine. "Hold on tight, _chere."_

* * *

_~Stop! Story Time! ~_

_*This is the story of how I fractured my patella, seeing as how some of you expressed interest in my desperately embarrassing story. (And what a lovely story it is, sadly less exciting than a bookie.) I was getting my cake out of the garage fridge and was scaling the steps back into the kitchen. Mind you, the only reason they count as 'steps' is because there are two of them, earning a plural. My left foot caught underneath the bottom step as I was going up, sending me tipping forward (cake in hands) so that my right knee collided straight into the metal bit at the bottom of the door, all of my weight o it. I kept falling forward, trying really hard to keep the cake flat so that it wouldn't tip off (It was a really good looking cake. I'd break my knee again if I got to eat that thing!) _Until_ my elbows hit the ground, making me let go of the cake, which fell straight to the ground, the glass platter underneath shattering absolutely everywhere.( The cake was fine)._

_So there I am, laying half way through the door, knee screaming in pain and already a lovely shade of purple, completely covered in broken glass, and all I hear is my dad go "_God. Dammit._"_

_Anyways. Go about the rest of your days, little ones! Frolic in grassy plains (or snow drifts…) dance to the light of the moon, review my story, and eat rich and foreign foods!_

_NEXT CHAPTER: You know what's comming next. Even if you don't _think _you know what's comming next, you know... :D_


	4. Some things just can't be Understood

_Ahaha! Chica De Los Ojos Café and have just been on top of things this story! :__D_

* * *

"What do you mean you can't take me home?" Rogue glared at the pacing Cajun, sitting on the sleek black motorcycle in a back alley Remy had pulled over in.

"It's not that I can't take you home," Remy ran his fingers through his wet hair. "It's that I can't take you home… in the next twenty four hours."

"Do I wanna know this story, or should I just skip to the part where I kick your ass?" Rogue started yanking the pieces of paper out of her hair and throwing them to the ground in frustration.

"You can't kick my ass." Remy grinned slyly and sent a pointed look at her broken ankle.

"Well, then it looks like I'm gonna be hearin' a story today."

"It's a long story." Remy offered, trying to herd her interest away from the subject.

"I got twenty four hours to listen, apparently." Rogue snipped.

"Truth is, _chere, _I'm a mutant." He cringed.

"So am I," Rogue huffed. "Try again."

His eyebrows shot up on his forehead, wondering what her mutation was, but quickly decided to move forward at the full force of her glare.

"And a thief." He added.

"Gathered that much." She nodded for him to continue.

"And, if you wanna get technical about it, a mercenary."

Rogue's eyebrows rose.

"Well, Remy," She crossed her arms over her chest, green eyes sparking with annoyance in the light of the street lamp hung far over her head. "You have my attention."

Remy ran his fingers through his hair again and had a very sudden yearning for a cigarette, a habit he had kicked years ago. He had a moment to muse about how some women could get so far under your skin they could drive you to hanker for a slow and cancer-filled death before his shoulders fell and he looked down at the ground.

"I'm being paid an absolutely obscene amount of money t' steal something in the next twenty four hours, and up until that point I need t' … lay… low…" He started trailing off as he looked down at the papers Rogue had hurled at the ground. He bent over in a flash and snatched up one of the maps, quickly unfolding it. "_Chere!"_He shouted, leaping forward and pulling her into a hug. "Y'r de best!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Rogue moaned as her ankle was jarred. "What'd I do?" She yowled.

"This is the floor plan for de buildin' I need t' break in to!" He laughed. "Y'r de best!" He repeated.

"Can you put me down before someone gets hurt?" Rogue snapped.

"Sorry, _chere,_" Remy gently helped her back to the bike. "Didn' mean t' hurt y'."

"It wasn't me I was worried about gettin' hurt." Rogue stretched her arm over her shoulder to wrench out some more papers that had fallen down her dress, unknowingly giving Remy a very good view of things he very much enjoyed viewing.

"What d'ya mean?" Remy's head tilted precariously as she pulled her wet hair off of the back of her neck and wrung it over her shoulder, sending a small cascade of water descending across her shoulder and soaking back into her nightdress, which had recently become very clingy with the added water.

"I mean, Cajun," Rogue flipped her hair back over her shoulder and glared at him. "I can't touch."

"C-can't touch?" Remy stuttered, having trouble concentrating as she bent over to run her hands down her legs, smoothing off excess water.

"Unless you _want _to go into a coma after gettin' your soul sucked out." Her glare stayed constant.

"That's y'r mutation?"

"Mmmhmm." Rogue nodded.

Remy groaned loudly, throwing his leg back over the bike.

"I guess comas aren't so bad…" He considered, craving cigarettes again.

"What?" Rogue called over the rumble of the engine.

"Nothin'!" Remy called back.

"Twenty four hours?" She asked.

"Then I'll take y' home." He nodded, having to stop himself from grimacing in pain as she wrapped her hands around his waist and pressed up against his back. Good pain. And at the same time, horrible pain.

"Where are we going?" Rogue yelled as he tore out of the alley.

"Base of operations!" Remy called back. "I just hope he hasn't destroyed it yet." He muttered.

* * *

Rogue supported herself in a semi up-right position by planting the heels of her hands on Remy's lower back from where she was thrown over his shoulder, looking around warily.

"This doesn't seem like a very good base of operations," She commented, losing her grip on his leather duster as he started to scale the fire escape.

"The good ones never do," He shot a blinding grin over his shoulder at her, and, had Rogue been standing and in a more sedate mood, she would have swooned.

But, being as it was, she wasn't having any of his charm.  
"No fires." Remy commented, coming to a stop outside of one of the windows on the fourth floor. "I suppose that's a good sign." He pinched the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn't gripping the back of Rogue's knees. "I'm afraid I'm gonna havta apologize in advance, _chere."_

"Why?" Rogue peered around his body.

"_Eh bien ... Wade est un homme étrange ..." _And without further translation, Remy unlatched the window and let himself in.

Rogue let her eyes sweep over the room in front of her once to take in the obvious, and then again to find details. The loft itself was beautiful, exposed bricks and pipes, nice furniture, granite counters. The food, clothing, and weaponry scattered everywhere was what was marring the charming qualities.

"Wade!" Remy shouted. "Wade! Get out here!"

"Gambit!" Someone shouted from another part of the house. "Gambit! Gambit! Gambit! Guess what I did while you were gone?"

A man wearing nothing but a pair of stripped blue boxers, a stained wife beater, and a full red face mask with black splotches over the eyes came tearing out from what Rogue assumed was a walk in pantry and came bounding up to Remy.

"Was it 'destroying my apartment'?" Remy snapped.

"It's macaroni art!" Wade Wilson, better known in most of the circles he travelled in as Deadpool held up a picture of two figures grotesquely constructed out of painted macaroni noodles glued to paper, the one painted red and black labeled 'Wade, the most fantastical, handsomest, kick ass mercenary to have ever existed in the history of Marvel', and the one that was colored mostly pink as 'Gambit, his sidekick'.

"I was thinking of selling it on Ebay as original art," Wade puffed up his chest, obviously proud of his work.

Rogue and Remy exchanged looks.

It was only at this point that Wade absorbed the information his eyes were showing him.

"It's a girl!" He shouted.

"Indeed it is." Remy allowed, tossing Rogue over the back of the couch onto the cushions.

"A hot girl!" Wade continued.

"Again, you are correct."

Wade did some sort of flying leap over the back of the couch, landing next to Rogue, who nearly jumped three feet in the air at the action.

"Hi there," Wade smiled charmingly, though it was hard to tell through the mask. "My name's Wade Wilson, friends call me Wade Wilson, everyone else calls me Deadpool, security dispatcher extraordinaire."

"Uh-huh." Rogue looked around with wide eyes for where Remy had disappeared to.

"Wade," Remy snapped, coming out of the bathroom, first aid kit in hand. "Stop scarin' the _femme." _He sat down on the edge of the couch, popping the lid of the kit on his knee.

"I suppose I should thank you for savin' my life earlier." Rogue blushed.

"'S no problem," Remy grinned at her, removing the wrap from the little box on his knee.

"But, still," Rogue tried not to wriggle uncomfortably as he set about wrapping up her ankle securely with his gloved hands. "I feel like I was being a little… cross with you earlier."

"It wasn't like I was being a perfect gentleman with you." Remy commented. "Besides, we was runnin' for our lives, it's understandable to be a little prickly in that sort of situation."

He smiled at her and she held his gaze.

Wade sighed heavily from where was sitting on the ground, munching on popcorn as he watched them interact. "And you two even have cute matching accents!"

"Goddammit, Wade!" Remy charged some of the needles he found in the first aid kit and hurled them at Wade.

"Remy!" Rogue shouted as the needles struck Wade and exploded, leaving little dents in his skin.

"Oh! He's fine!" Remy snapped the lid of the kit shut and tossed it to the ground as he stood up, having finished wrapping Rogue's ankle.

"I'm okay!" Wade sat up, craters in his skin healing up.

"Now, Wade," Remy said in a voice laden with authority as he stripped off his jacket. "I need you t' find some clothes f'r the Rogue here t' wear while I get changed and scan the floor plans. I do not want any-." He started.

"Explosions, gun shots, katana wielding, ninja slaying, Clorox bomb making, or use of the oven while you're not around." Wade finished out of memory. "Gotcha, Gamby!"

Remy glared at the man speculatively for a moment before turning to where Rogue assumed the bedrooms were.

Rogue's head tilted precariously to the side as she watched Remy peel off his wet shirt and throw it to the side haphazardly, revealing a toned upper body as he continued his journey across the apartment. The water added an appealing shine to his wiry muscle.

"…_I've been really tryin', baby! Trying to hold back this feelin' for so long..."_

Rogue whipped her head around from staring at Remy to see Wade holding up a CD player, whistling nonchalantly as it blasted Marvin Gaye.

Her ankle screamed out in pain as she lunged for the insane mercenary, ending up on the floor in a contorted position.

"Ow," She moaned, wishing her ankle would just heal up.

"You dead?" Wade asked, looming over her.

"…Say… Wade?" Rogue grinned up at the man.

"Yessums?"

"Am I tah understand that you have a healing factor?"


	5. Fake Hostages are the best Hostages

_Sup, chickies? Makin' mah explanations: Wade is supposed to be working with Remy on whatever it is (*waggly eyebrows*) they're stealing. That's why Remy called it the 'base of operations'. Sorry that wasn't really clear, but it will be later when we get around to the actual stealing. :D_

* * *

Remy groaned lightly in pain as he pulled a shirt over his head, muscles along his shoulders and down his back displeased by the amount of work they had been pushed in to so early in the morning. Rolling his shoulders, he unfolded the map Rogue had brought with her and looked it over once before slapping it down on the flatbed scanner connected to his laptop and quickly flipped them both on, loading up the new information to compare to the data he already had on the security systems of the building.

He felt his brow furrow as he looked over the information he was getting.

"_L'enfer?" _He squinted harder at the screen. "Wade!" Remy shouted over his shoulder, waiting for his 'partner in crime' to respond.

He waited a beat.

There was no response.

"Wade!" He tried again, really not wanting to get up and see what the Merc with a Mouth had done to his apartment now. Or to Rogue.

Again there was no response.

"Goddammit, Wade!" Remy growled, pushing himself away from the desk and stomping up to the door before throwing it open.

It took a moment to register what he was seeing.

Rogue was sobbing hysterically on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, wrap that had been around her ankle unraveled around her, revealing that her leg was now completely fine. Wade was unconscious on the ground next to her.

"_Chere!" _Remy vaulted over the top of the couch, pulling her into his chest quickly in an attempt to soothe her. "_Chere, _tell Remy what happened." He ran his hand over her hair, silently vowing to find some way to murder Wade if he had hurt her.

"Did…Did you know…" Rogue started, stuttering as her teeth chattered.

"Know what, _chere?" _He mumbled, pulling her closer.

"That Bea Arthur died?" She broke into more sobs. "That's so sad!"

Remy blinked. He had been expecting a lot of things. That was not one of them.

Wade sat bolt upright from his position on the floor. "I know, right?!"

Wade and Rogue shared a sympathetic moment for the late Bea Arthur.

"Want a chimichanga?" Wade turned to Rogue.

"Hells yeah!" Rogue scrambled over the back of the couch and raced Wade to the kitchen.

Remy sat frozen on the couch, having absolutely no grasp on what was going on right now.

Rogue came stumbling back out of the kitchen. "Ah don't like chimichangas…" She muttered, massaging her temples as if in pain.

"You okay?" Remy stood and made his way to her.

She held out her hand to keep him away.

"Touched Wade. Stole the healing factor. Absorbed some of the crazy." She explained in short, to the point sentences. "It should fade in a minute or two."

"We should probably get you some clothes," Remy put his arms around her shoulder and started to herd her towards the closet.

A phone rang in the background.

"Yeeellow?" Wade waltzed out of the kitchen, holding the phone up to his ear. "This is Deadpool."

Remy felt a fear of God stir within him. He had learned two things since he had been hired alongside Wade Wilson. One, ninjas will find you. It doesn't matter where you are or who you're hiding with, ninjas will find you sooner or later. And Two, never, _ever, _let Wade answer the phone.

"If I said that I _was _a mercenary, does this conversation end in me getting paid disgusting amounts of money?" Deadpool inquired to the person on the other side of the phone. "And I'm not talking 'oh icky!' amounts of money, I'm talkin' Bruce Banner in a thong nasty."

…

"He's the Hulk…" Wade supplied. "Think about it."

"Wade…" Remy used a tone one would if talking to a wild animal holding a grenade. "Put. Down. The phone."

"I know you don't care whether I'm a mercenary or not," Wade snorted into the phone, either not hearing Remy or ignoring Remy expertly. "Durr. But that's how all of my phone conversations start. I have an obligation."

"What's wrong?" Rogue breathed.

"Oh, yeah, Gambit's here." Wade continued to ramble into the phone.

"This is how I got into this mess in the first place!" Remy lunged for the phone, missing as Deadpool turned last second.

"I dunno if he'd wanna talk." Deadpool continued.

"Put down the phone!"

"Well then, you can get your eye-patched ass down here and tell him yourself!" Deadpool slammed the phone down on to the counter.

Remy stared at the phone in horror.

"Please tell me that wasn' who I thought it was."

"Nick Fury?" Wade asked. "Nah. It was totally him."

"What did he say?"

"Something about the Brotherhood of Mutants coming to try and recruit you and how you owe him big time for tipping you off." Wade shrugged, rummaging around in the pantry. "I dunno, I wasn't actually paying attention."

"Brotherhood of Mutants?" Remy and Rogue said in unison, one wrinkling his nose, the other rolling her eyes to the ceiling and making short bargains with God.

"Yup." Wade munched on some Cheesey Puffs, nodding.

"Lordy Loo," Rogue scrubbed at her brow. "1:30 in the morning is just too damn early for this type of stuff."

"Got a problem, _chere?" _Remy inquired.

"This entire building is made of metal, for a start," Rogue growled, her Rogue-ish traits starting to take back over.

"So?" Deadpool lisped, mouth stuffed with chips.

"How much do you two know about the Brotherhood?" Rogue asked, hands on hips.

Remy and Wade exchanged looks, neither one of them wanting to sat 'Nothing'.

"That's what I thought." Rogue snipped, making her way to the closet, rooting through the clothing there. "Did Fury say _when _they were coming?" She called over her shoulder to Wade.

"I think his exact words were 'Now.'" Wade supplied.

The metal fire escape groaned and contorted outside of the window.

"And that would be them." Rogue pulled one of Remy's sweatshirts over her head, it falling past her nightdress and almost down to her knees.

"Alright," Remy disliked being unaware of dangers ahead, and disliked being in Fury's debt even more. But, there was only one of those situations he could do anything about at the moment. "Quick as y' can, fill me in."

Rogue did so.

* * *

Erik Lensherr, better known as Magneto, was not a man to be taken lightly. He enjoyed his power and he enjoyed his freedom, and was willing to fight tooth and nail to keep both of them firmly in his possession.

Pietro Maximoff, better known as Quicksilver, could have cared less about power or freedom, but was willing to fight tooth and nail to earn his father's approval.

St. John Allerdyce, better known as Pyro, didn't care about power, freedom, or approval, he just wanted to fight.

The three of them were eager to meet Remy LeBeau just for those reasons.

"Do you both understand your roles?" Erik asked over his shoulder.

"Yes, father," Pietro nodded with unusual formality.

"Don't hurt 'em, an' don't start a fight if it ain't necessary." John grinned insanely, speaking with a distinct Australian twang.

Pietro and Erik stared at John for a beat.

"Oh!" John added. "Don't kill 'em!"

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering why he chose to bring the pyromaniac with him for a simple recruiting operation. And if the recruitment went sour, a kidnapping a blackmail operation.

"Pietro," He sighed, earning his son's attention in a heartbeat. "Would you dash in quickly and see if the mutant we're looking for is inside?"

"On it!"

* * *

Remy and Wade stared at Rogue.

"Well…" Wade started.

"Well, what?" Rogue snapped.

"Well, hell." Remy supplied.

"Is that it?" Rogue shouted. "You don't have a plan? You don't have _anything?"_

"Oh, I do," Remy grinned, holding out his hand, which Deadpool promptly slapped a roll of duct tape into. "Congratulations, _chere!" _He moved forward towards Rogue. "You've just become a fake hostage!"

_

* * *

Ask and you shall receive, dearies. :D Nick Fury? Nick Fury. Pyro? Pyro. Anybody else I should throw in here. (If you're about to say 'Tony Stark', I gotcha covered.) I've got time!! AHAHA!!!_

_Have I told you that I love this story?_


	6. Evil doers don't die

_Hey chickies! Sorry it took me so long to get this one out; I had a rather large English project that I had to take care of that I procrastinated the hell out of because Oedipus makes me feel icky. If this chapter comes out funny, it's because I have mother-lovin' on the mind (ew. ew. ew.)_

* * *

"Yah didn't havta kill her!" John sobbed, knees down on the pavement in front of the contorted piece of metal that had been his lighter three seconds ago.

"I informed you that if you flipped that infernal lighter open one more time I was going to turn it into scrap metal." Erik pointed out without looking over his shoulder at the distraught boy.

"It's alright, Lindsey," John informed the lighter, which really resembled modern art more than it did a functional tool. "Papa John's just gonna get you shined up and everything's gonna be okay." He cooed.

Erik rolled his eyes and waited for his son to return, which he was thankful was sooner rather than later.

"Yup, he's up there!" Pietro informed him as soon as he returned in a blur. He had to do a double take when he saw John kneeling on the ground. "Wha-."

"Don't question it." Erik advised.

"Right." That didn't stop Pietro from looking weirdly at John as he continued to sob.

"Are you positive it's the mutant we are looking for?" Erik cowed the conversation back to the point of this particular excursion.

"Scary eyes and stupid as hell trench coat?" Pietro grinned. "That'd be him."

"Good." A smile turned the corner's of Erik's lips. "Let's make an entrance, shall we?"

With a swift flourish of the old man's hands, the metal fire escape was ripped from the wall and refashioned itself into a pristine staircase which contrasted sharply with the filth of the street. Of course, he could have just lifted the three of them up to the level, but where was the display of godly-power there?

"We gettin' into a fight now?" John perked up.

"If it comes down to it," Erik smiled.

"ALLRIGHT!" John crowed, springing up and pulling another lighter out of his pocket. "LET'S GET TO IT, MATES!" He cried as he charged up the staircase.

Erik and Pietro spent a moment glaring at each other.

"It wasn't _my _idea to bring him with us." Pietro snipped before following up the stairs.

* * *

"But Ah don' wanna be a hostage!" Rogue yowled, flailing her arms around wildly, knowingly making Remy's job of tying her up very difficult. Her knees and ankles were already bound and she was having a hell of a time standing up straight, keeping a good grip on Remy's sleeve most of the time for balance.

"I never said hostage." Remy was very obviously attempting to be diplomatic with her. "I said 'fake hostage'."

"The point is the word 'hostage' was thrown around!" She huffed, blowing white bits of hair out of her eyes.

"Look, _chere,_" Remy started to try and reason with, really not wanting to _actually _have to hold her hostage.

"I'm baaack!" Deadpool sang as he leaped out of the bathroom, thoughtful enough to put on the rest of his uniform, which included two katanas, three hunting knives, at least a half a dozen hidden explosives, and more guns than Rogue had time to count at the moment.

"Great, y'r here," Remy sighed with relief. "Y'r better at this 'hostage' thing, _you _tie her up."

"It's harder than it looks." Wade nodded knowingly, pulling out another roll of duct tape from _somewhere _and unwrapping it with a sharp ripping sound.

"No!" Rogue attempted to wriggle away. "Nononono! Ah cannot think of anythang worse that can happen to meh tahday than bein' tied up by him." She swore vehemently.

The window behind her groaned as the metal of the frame contorted before the glass shattered.

"Today is just not my day." Rogue moaned.

"These things happen," Remy assured her as he dragged her away from the window and up to his side, wrapping her wrists discreetly.

"You must be Mr. LeBeau." Magneto smiled as he stepped in to the room.

"That's the rumor." Remy smirked right back, pretending like people just walked in through his window every day of the week.

"And who else do we have here?" Magneto turned to Rogue and Wade for the first time, recognition immediately sparking in his eyes when he saw Rogue.

"Roguey?" John stepped forward out of the shadows.

"Johnny?" Rogue whipped her head around, knowing that voice anywhere. "Johnny!"

"I haven't seen you in ages!" John laughed, sprinting forward and pulling her into a spinning hug. "You look great!" He grinned as he finally placed her back on the ground, "But, how could a woman like you ever not look great, huh?" He bent down and brushed his lips over the sleeve on top of her knuckles.

Rogue giggled.

Remy's eyebrows rose on his forehead as he watched the two of them interact.

"So…." Wade drawled to Remy as Rogue and John continued to laugh it up in front of them. "You aren't gonna blow him up or something?"

"What?"

"Yeah," Pietro nodded readily. "If that were my girl, I would have leveled his ass."

"But she's not my girl!" Remy protested.

"Is that your sweater she's wearing?" Erik inquired.

"Yeah." Remy allowed slowly. "What about it?"

"Totally your girl." Wade and Pietro nodded.

"I do think John's making haste in moving in on your territory." Erik observed.

"I've known 'er f'r an hour and a half!"

"Which puts you behind in the race," Deadpool whipped out a notebook and started to run numbers. "Taking into account that he already has a cute nickname for her and you only call her 'chere', which you pretty much call anything with boobs, I'd say that he's so far ahead of you, you're like the Jenifer Aniston to their Brad and Angelina."

"Ooh, that's bad." Pietro winced in sympathy.

"What does that even _mean_?" Remy shouted.

"It happens to the best of us," Erik put a hand on Remy's slouching shoulder. "Now, let's talk about The Brotherhood, shall we?" He offered with a kindly smile.

Remy got to thinking at this point. He knew two things for fact: One; They still wanted him to be part of this 'Brotherhood', which for all he could tell was just a mutant terrorist society. And he didn't do that type of stuff for free. And Two; That 'John' kid was really starting to piss him off.

A newer plan, which was more of a revised version of the old plan, started to flesh out in his mind.

"_Oui,_" He grinned, leading the master of magnetism to a seat. "Let's talk about The Brotherhood. I find that this might exactly be my calling and I have valuable resources to dedicate to a cause such as yours." To say he was laying on the charm thick would have been an under-exaggeration

"I'm glad to hear it," Magneto nodded pleasantly.

"Kiss-ass." Pietro muttered under his breath.

"Wade," Remy directed his charming smile at the mercenary. "We have guests, could you get them _something?" _He intentionally put extra emphasis, hoping the merc with a mouth would get his meaning.

"Something…" Wade drawled, smile blooming under his mask. "Like doorknobs?"

"Doorknobs?" Erik, Pietro, Rogue, and John said in unison.

"_Oui,_" Remy grinned, making his way towards the exit, grabbing Rogue as he went while John was distracted by his confusion. "I think some doorknobs are in order."

"What are you two talking about?" Rogue hissed to Remy as he walked away with her, absolutely confused as to where this was going. "What the hell are doorknobs?"

"These," Wade grinned as he yanked two twin semi-automatic Beretta 92FS' out. "Are doorknobs*!"

Magneto, Quicksilver, and Pyro were already moving to counter any attack when Remy's whistle pierced the air, calling their attention to where he stood in the window.

"Ah hate you," Rogue groaned from where she was held against his side, sweater glowing a furious magenta. "Ah really, _really _hate you."

"Your duties as hostage have not been met," Remy reminded her, sweater pumping up to another spastic hue.

"Hostage?" Erik repeated, lowering his hands from where he was about to mangle all of Wade's weapons. "What makes you think we care about the girl?" He inquired with a cold smile.

"I care about the girl." John threw in.

Everyone chose to ignore him.

"Because the girl's a mutant." Remy reminded him with a cheeky grin, taking a step backwards so that he was standing in the frame. "Won't look very good on the evening news if a mutant was murdered by another mutant, now would it? Might inspire the belief that even the great Magneto can't keep control his own species, eh?"

There was a tic in Erik's jaw, but no other sign of those words having any effect on him.

"I really thought we could be friends in all of this," He sighed, metalwork around the apartment flexing with his hesitance.

"So what? Are you gonna kill me if he doesn't buy it?" Rogue hissed under her breath.

"Would I ever hurt a _belle femme _such as yourself?" Remy pretended to sound affronted.

"Maybe if you were paid enough." Rogue snorted.

"Is it time for a fight yet?" John whimpered, stressed about the feel of a gun on him and just itching to torch the guy holding Rogue hostage.

"Not yet," Erik hesitated, but smirked none the less. This Gambit was a smart one. Just the type of fellow he could use in The Brotherhood.

"Me an' Rogue here are goin' away now. Don' follow." Remy growled around.

"And how do you plan to get us out of this one?" Rogue snapped. At that moment she decided she was going to start keeping tally of how many times she was held hostage. More than once felt like too many times. "I ain't goin' out a window with you again." She growled.

"You're wrong about one thing, _chere," _Remy grinned, taking another step backwards… off the window ledge.

"_Ah hate you_!" Rogue shrieked as they went down.

"Now we can fight." Erik allowed, warping Wade's pistols with a nod of his head.

Deadpool squeaked as he dropped the guns to the ground. "You killed them!" He sounded shocked, maybe on the verge of tears. "Tammy," he picked up one of the guns and pet it familiarly. "Mia," He turned to the other.

Erik rolled his eyes, expecting a John-esque response.

"YOU BASTARD!" Wade grabbed a lamp and charged.

"Timetogo." Pietro, Erik, and John decided quickly and unanimously, each taking off in a different direction.

* * *

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Remy attempted to calm Rogue.

"I hate you."

"And y' didn' get hurt."

"I hate you."

"And I caught y' before y' hit the ground."

"I _hate _you."

"I get that." Remy sighed, charging the tape around her legs until it fizzled and split, freeing her. "Sorry I got y' involved in that."

"What about Wade?" Rogue cast her eyes back up to the shattered window that had served as her point of egress moments before. The sounds of smashing and spontaneous flares of light echoed from the window.

"When he's done killin' 'em, he'll come down and meet us," Remy explained, helping her to her feet. "C'mon, we gotta go." He started to pull her away.

"Oh, no," Rogue pouted her lips, refusing to move. "What about Johnny?"

"What _about _Johnny?" He asked distastefully.

Well, he-." Rogue started, but then cut herself off. "What's that noise?"

"What noise?" Remy attempted to hone in on what she was listening to.

"_Ahhhhhhh…"_

"It sounds like…"

"Screaming?"

"_Hhhhhhh, Crap!" _Pietro came to a sudden stop on the pavement next to them, the soles of his shoes smoking as they ground against the pavement with his speed. "You!" He accused when he caught sight of them.

"Me!" Remy chuckled lightly, stepping in front of Rogue.

"My father says you're valuable to the cause." He growled, taking a step forward. "You better hope he's right."

Meanwhile, a very small sound was starting to get louder and louder. It started off as more of a whine on the air, originating from somewhere high above the ground, but gradually, as the source came closer and closer to the pavement where the three of them stood, the whine turned into a scream, and the scream turned in to a word.

"_VVVVVEEEEEEENNNNNNGGGGGGGEEEEEEEENNNNNNNCCCCCCCEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" _Deadpool screamed from his spot on top of Magneto's chest, doling out punches to the face as they rocketed towards the surface of the earth. "You thought you could fly away from me?" Punch. "Huh?" Slap. "_HUH?!" _Back-hand.

"Get off of me!" Erik demanded

"_Never!"_

At the last second, Erik twisted so that Wade collided with the pavement underneath him, very nearly shattering the street underneath of them with the force they had built up, crumbling the foundation of the building next to them.

"I'm getting too old for this." Erik coughed, pulling himself up.

"Father," Pietro zipped up to his side. "Are you alright?"

"As long as that fool isn't getting back up, I am," Erik shot a glare at the mangled form of Deadpool in the center of the crater they had just made.

"Is he dead?" Rogue whispered to Remy from their spot on the sidelines, again refusing to be ushered away while the getting was good.

"If it were that easy to kill Wade Wilson, I would have done it myself a month ago." Remy dismissed.

John whistled along tunelessly with the elevator jingle, waiting to reach the bottom floor. Man, he really hoped he wasn't missing anything.

"If he refuses to come willingly, force him to." Erik started dealing out new orders.

"On it!" Pietro called as he sped off again.

"You see all the trouble you're gettin' me into!" Remy shouted at Rogue as he whipped out his bo staff, not knowing where the speed demon was at the moment, but knowing full well he was going to be prepared for an attack if anything.

"Me getting _you _in trouble?" Rogue snapped back. "_Me _getting _you _in trouble_!" _She scoffed with disbelief. "I have done _nothing_!"

"My life was normal before you came in to it!" The staff contorted in his fingers as Magneto targeted it. Remy promptly charged it and hurled it at the old man.

"You've known me for an hour and a half!" She unknowingly repeated what he had said earlier.

"And look at all the weird shit that's happened to me since!" He took out a deck of card and threw charged cards at any spot a flash of green and gray passed. Which was a lot of spots.

"You can't blame _me _for this!"

"I _can _and I _will."_

Pietro screamed as he was thrown in to the air as Remy got in a lucky shot among the fifty or so he had taken.

"That everyone?" Remy sunk down to his knees, fatigue wearing away at him.

"I think so," Rogue delicately stepped forward through the rubble on her bare feet, picking her way to Remy's side. "Wait," She looked around one more time. "Where's Johnny?"

"_L'enfer." _Remy kneaded his temples as John kicked open the door.

"Did I miss anything?" He looked around wildly.

"Pyro," Erik coughed, righting himself again as Pietro rose as well. "Capture him."

"Gotcha, bossman!" Pyro grinned, flipping open his lighter.

Remy grinned as well and he cut another deck of cards in between his fingers. A little voice deep, deep, _deep, deep _down was telling him that he should try and not kill Rogue's 'friend'. But, there was a shallower voice that was telling him that he was going to love kicking this kid's ass.

"Remy," Rogue seemed to read his mind. "Don't you dare-."

"Too late!" Remy laughed, sending a suit and a half hurtling at Pyro before he could finish summoning his fire dragon, shortly followed by the rest of the deck sent flying at Magneto and Quicksilver again, him desperately hoping they would stay down long enough for him to get away.

The cards struck Quicksilver and Pyro with no problem, but with another move made at the last second, Magneto threw up a storm drain in front of himself, flattening it so that the card were deflected, striking the foundation of the building behind him.

"_Merde." _Remy muttered when he realized what had happened.

"What?" Rogue breathed.

"We should move," Remy started to tug her away as the already unstable building started to give way to gravity. "Right now." He grabbed Wade by the collar as he scrambled away, dragging the dead (?) mercenary with him along with Rogue.

"But what about-." Rogue started.

"I don' care 'bout Johnny!" Remy snapped, sprinting to safety. "Main priorities right now is me an' you!"

"Well, that's very sweet an' all, but mah friend is-."

"Y'r wearin' _my_ sweater, woman, now _shush!" _Rogue honestly didn't realized how very, very lucky she was that Remy was on her side for the moment.

Before Rogue could come up with some witty reply to that, Remy yanked her down in to a basement of an adjacent building, knowing that the alley next to it was a dead end and they would never have time to skirt the building before the other came down. He trust the deadweight that was Wade at her and pushed her into a closet, bracing the door closed with his back against it as the building that he had destroyed came down on the one they were in.

"Stay under Wade!" He commanded.

The closet itself was a comfortable sort. Not one you would expect to be in a basement. It seemed to be storage for blankets and sheets. Of course, it got considerably less comfortable if you were crouched under an unconscious, scrawny excuse of a mercenary.

"Stay down low," Remy commanded again, the roar of collapse getting closer.

Rogue curled up into a tight ball, hands over the back of her neck as she worried about what was going to happen to Remy if he stayed standing.

Eventually, the sounds of destruction stopped, the crash never even reaching the basement.

"It's gone?" Rogue peeked out of her elbows.

Remy laughed, sinking to the ground. "Didn' even havta panic." He grinned.

Rogue laughed along with him, kicking Wade off of her as she dragged herself up to his side.

"No more fun," She sighed after a moment. "Let's not do stuff like that again.

"Well, I don' think it's up to us, _chere." _Remy commented as he stood and worked the door open, the both of them working to drag Wade out with them. "Fun times come when they want to." He sent a blinding grin her way.

Rogue rolled her eyes in an attempt to cover up the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I saw that," Remy chuckled as they worked to pull the body they were carrying out of the basement. "So the Rogue can blush after all."

Rogue rolled her eyes again, blush deepening. She just wasn't used to attention from men who weren't her best friends, like John. It was like a secondary part of her mutation, to be forever stuck in the 'Friend's Zone'.

"Well, lookey here, _chere," _Remy laughed as they reached the top of a mountain of rubble. "I think we made a bit of a mess."

Was that ever an understatement. Three buildings. Reduced to rocks and timber.

"You think they survived?" Rogue looked over the destruction for any signs of John.

"_Non." _Remy sighed. "Unless they pulled off somethin' ridiculous in the three seconds they had, I doubt it.

At that moment, Magneto pulled back the shield of car parts he had created over himself and the two he had brought with him.

"Goddammit." Rogue and Remy sighed in unison.

"What'd I miss?" Wade sat bolt up right.

_

* * *

*In the comic books, Deadpool often refers to his guns as doorknobs. Don't ask me why, I don't remember if there was even a reason; just know that it's funny._

_Hoooly Jeeeebus, that Chapter took longer than I thought it would to write. That was long. (for me… meh, I'm a sissy.) It's not my favorite chapter, buuuuuut ARE YOU READY FOR SOME CAMEOS NEXT CHAPTER?!? Oh-YEAAAH._


	7. Plot devices? Nah

_JAMIE: *attempts to sneak up another chapter while everyone's not paying attention*_

_EVERYONE: Aha! Where _the hell _have you been!?!_

_JAMIE: I'S SORRY! I DUN LOST MAH COMPUTAHZ AN NOW I HAS TAH WRITE ON DAH DESKTOP INZ MAH BASEMENT AND DESKTOPS DUN MAKE ME FEELS DUMB! WRITING DON' WORK REAL FAST WHEN I'S FEELIN' DUMB!_

_EVERYONE:…What?..._

_JAMIE: Uh… Look! A distraction!_

* * *

Peter Parker stumbled down the front steps of his high school after spending the majority of that morning and yesterday afternoon dangling from the basketball hoop by his underwear. "Jerks," He muttered under his breath, limping from underwear-induced trauma.

He had been bullied most of his life, being scrawny and geeky compared to the other kids. That and him mooning mindlessly after the football captain's girl led to many nights spent suspended from various parts of his school by his tighty-whiteys. (Aunt May did the underwear shopping- It wasn't his fault.)

He had been sure that his social life was going to experience a turnabout after the fateful trip his class had taken to a research center in the main part of the city.

There had been thirteen enclosures for the radiated spiders.

There had only been twelve spiders.

"Ow," He moaned as he stumbled down another step, repositioning the highly uncomfortable spandex under his underwear *, wearing so many layers of clothing it was almost paradoxical.

"They're lucky I didn't just web-." He started to gripe but found himself interrupted by a tingle that ran up the back of his neck.

He whipped around as quickly as he could, knowing that feeling by heart at this point. His eyes scoped around warily as he fell into a wary crouch, waiting for something to happen.

What did happen, however, was one of the last things he had expected.

A thundering crash echoed from a off in the distance as, from what Peter could see, three buildings a few blocks away from his started to crash down to the ground.

He didn't think as he sprinted forward, buttons popping off of the front of his shirt as he wrenched it open, revealing red and blue fabric with a silver spider spread across the chest.

* * *

"Now," Erik smiled pleasantly as he took a step forward, bits of the car revolving around him narrowing out into more menacing shapes. "Where were we?"

"Wasn't it the part where we beat the crap outta them?" Pietro snickered.

"No, no," Erik continued to smile in his grand-fatherly fashion. "That's for after we blackmail our friend Gambit."

"And how is exactly you plan t' do that?" Remy smirked coolly.

"As it so happens, I have come across a considerably long list of detectives, agencies, and ex-girlfriends that would pay nearly anything to get at you." Magneto sneered out a grin like a bastard.

Rogue looked around frantically, keeping a firm grip on Remy's sleeve as he attempted to lung forward at Magneto's throat. What the hell was she going to do? As far as she could see, any escape route had been blocked away from easy access by the rubble littering the streets.

A flash of light from the sinking moon hitting a metallic surface caught her eye.

An idea worked its way through her mind.

"Remy," She grunted as she leaned back on her heels in an attempt to keep him back. "Stop it!" She hissed. "I've got a plan."

Remy growled furiously as he continued to struggle forward. He could do threats about turning him in to detectives. He could handle threats about revealing him to any of the assorted agencies he had pissed off. Bringing women into the deal was crossing the line.

"Lemme go!" He snarled, literally clawing at the air in an attempt to get at Magneto.

"No!" Rogue snapped.

"He's going to get away eventually," Deadpool shrugged. "You might as well let him go."

"Why on earth would Ah do that?" Rogue snipped with a spiked accent, looking over her shoulder to glare at Deadpool. "Just so he can start a fight?" She snorted at how dumb that would be. "Besides, there is no way he's getting away-." She turned back around to realize she was holding on to an empty jacket. "Dammit."

She and Wade both turned in unison to see Remy duck under one of Pietro's fast moving fists, roll out of the path of John's fire dingo, kick Quicksilver's feet out from underneath of him and simply knee Pyro in the groin before stepping up to Magneto.

"We should go stop him." Rogue decided, yanking Wade forward with her.

"I must say," Erik rolled his shoulders, grinning at the new challenge this mutant posed, still impressed by the boy's vigor. "I have never had this much trouble recruiting a mutant before."

"It's about t' get a lot harder." Remy assured the old man, scooping up a pile of pebbles and charging them.

"I'm sure," Erik smirked.

There was one moment of calculating silence before both men lashed out, one hurling a handful of pebbles, the other – a car's worth of metal daggers.

Something neither of them counted on, however, was both of their weapons being snatched out of the air but what appeared to be a white, chorded net, and pinned to the ground. …And then promptly exploding, but that was after everyone had stopped paying attention as they turned heel in an attempt to find the source of the webby-goop.

"What the hell was that?" Rogue breathed as she finally succeeded in dragging Wade up to Remy's side.

"That was me," A dark figure perched on one of the few remaining buildings declared heroically.

"Oh Je-_sus_…" Deadpool mumbled. His 'something stupid, but necessary to the plot is about to happen' sense was acting up again.

"Who is that?" Pietro whispered as he righted himself.

"Dunno," John wheezed from his fetal position on the ground, voice a few octaves higher than normal.

The figure shot something that looked like a braided chord out of his fist and used it to swing himself down to the ground, crouching in the shadows, shrouded from their view.

"Show yourself!" Magneto commanded. His voice was authority personified. "I demand to know your identity." He stretched out his fingers in a threatening manner, any metal surrounding groaned.

The figure in the shadows straightened and took a step forward into the moonlight, revealing red and blue fabric run over with what appeared to be a web design with insect-like eyes and a silver spider stretched across his chest.

"I'm Spiderman." He declared, angling his chin upwards in poster-esque fashion.

The six others in the clearing exchanged looks.

"Spiderman?" Rogue repeated. "_Spider_man?"

"It does leave something t' be desired." Remy crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed.

"Are those my clothes?" Deadpool demanded as he scrutinized Spiderman's outfit. (Truth be told, there _were_ similarities.)

"Wait, wait, wait," Spiderman waved his hands up in the air, absolutely flabbergasted. "You've never heard of 'Spiderman'?" He looked around at the blank faces surrounding him. "Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman?" He repeated for their benefit.

"Not ringin' any bells." John rubbed the back of his neck.

"But- but," Spiderman stuttered. "_Everyone's_ heard of Spiderman…"

"Apparently not." Erik crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow.

Spiderman's world tilted on its axis. They didn't know who Spiderman was. _They didn't know who Spiderman was! _How? Did they live in _caves? _What about The Green Goblin? Black Cat? _DR. GODDAMN OCTOPUS! _Did they know about them? How was he supposed to stop criminals dead in their tracks if they didn't even know his name anymore? What had his life's pursuits been for?

"WHERE DID I GO WRONG?!" He screamed into the sky, going down to his knees. "IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY?" He demanded, crying a little bit at this point. "IT'S BECAUSE I WAS THINKING ABOUT MAKING MY COSTUME BLACK, ISN'T IT!?

"Is he- uh… Is he gonna be okay?" Pietro wondered out loud.

"How the hell should I know?" Wade snorted. "Hell, I don't even know why I'm here any more."

"At least I'm not some sort of diseased freak, with warts and scars all over my body, I suppose." Spidey sniffed, listing all of the good things about his life he could come up with. "I don't have a running inner monologue I converse with. I've never been romantically involved with Death. Or best friends with anybody from the future. And, hey, I've still got my sanity." Unfortunately for this poor, innocent Spiderman, all of the things listed happened to be traits of a certain merc with a mouth.

A fist collided with his face.

"Ow!" He moaned from his spot on the ground. "What was that for?" He looked up at the red and black figure towering above him.

"Alright, you arachnid bastard- you may be better looking than me," Deadpool allowed. "You may have more conversations with people who are actually there than me. You may get more women that happen to be living than me. You may have more friends that exist in the same timeline as you do than me. You may have a better grasp on reality than me, hell, you may even look better in a similar costume than me- but there are two things that set us apart."

"Uh… W-what's that?" Spiderman hesitated.

"One, my movie is going to be _so_ much cooler than yours," Wade grinned through his mask, "And two," He pulled out an alternate twin set of semi-automatics. "I have more guns than you."

Spiderman squeaked.

"Wade," Remy sighed. "Y' can't shoot the kid."

"The hell I can't." Wade growled as he used his thumbs to flip the hammers.

"Not to be the one to beat around the bush," Erik interrupted. "But I came here for a reason."

"Ah, right- kidnap me, blackmail me." Remy nodded. "Almost forgot. Let's get this over with."

"Let's." Erik nodded, bringing up metallic support beam to his side as Pyro flicked open his lighter to his left and Quicksilver fell into a runner's crouch.

Remy started to yank another deck of cards out of his pocket when Rogue put a hand up to stop him.

"Really, boys," She sighed heavily, looking around at all the chaos. "Can't we just settle this like big kids?" She asked, stepping forward. Her eyes were wide and innocent; her lips were pouty and pink; her posture was small and conservative. She simply looked angelic.

"And how would big kids settle this?"Magneto smirked, mildly amused by her offering.

"Like this!" Rogue cackled as she slapped her bare hand against his face. He fell to the ground instantly, leaving her free to turn about, pin Pietro down to the ground with a metal pipe, slap him over the mouth, and then sprint up to John and tag him out before he could make a move.

"And_that_ishowyougetshitdone." She crowed, words nearly blurring together with her newfound super-speed.

Remy and Wade stared at her as if she were speaking a different language.

"I don't speak German." Deadpool admitted to Remy. "How 'bout you?"

"I have no idea what she just said." Remy replied.

"German?" Rogue repeated.

"Still don't understand y', _chere." _Remy explained.

"_Eu nu vorbesc germana!" _Rogue shouted.

"Oops," Wade cut in. "My b. That's Romanian."

"_Eu nu vorbesc limba română, fie!_ " Rogue stomped her foot.

"Can I go home now?" Spiderman asked, still pinned to the ground by Wade's guns.

"No. Shut up." Wade snipped without looking down. Spiderman wisely lapsed into silence.

"_Indiferent,"_Rogue continued, not knowing how to turn off the new language until the fresher psyches faded._ "Trebuie să plecăm de aici. Ele nu vor fi inconştient pentru foarte mult timp. Aşa cum spuneam mai devreme, am un plan. Motocicletă."_

"The what?" Remy set about trying to decipher what she was saying based upon her gestures.

"_Motocicletă!" _Rogue shouted and pointed. _"Motocicletă!"_

"Moto?" He attempted to follow where she was pointing.

Growling with frustration, she grabbed his arm and dragged him forward across the field of wreckage to the nearly untouched back alley where Remy had parked_'Selene'._

"_Motocicletă!"_ She pointed at the motorcycle.

Remy nodded, finally catching her meaning. "Y' wanna get outta here on Selene."

"_Da! A fost că într-adevăr atât de greu?" _She shrieked.

"Hey now, calm down, _chere." _He grinned at her fired up expression. Rogue begrudgingly took a deep breath. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news here," Remy continued once she had calmed slightly. "But the keys to this bike are in the building that just went down- and though I could jailbreak this baby in a hot second, I happen to like this motorcycle more than I like most people- so I ain't about t' rip 'er open and mess wit' 'er wiring when we have plenty of time t' find a new ride and-."

The sound of Magneto moaning himself into a state of near-consciousness cut the air.

Rogue tapped her foot impatiently as she continued to glare at Remy.

I'm assumin' that somewhere in your babblin', you informed me that they weren't going t' be out for very long." Remy cringed.

"_Da." _Rogue growled.

"Sorry, Selene," He sniffed as he hotwired the vehicle. "You commin' Wade?" He called over his shoulder, in a hurry to get out of there.

Wade was too bust crouching on the ground where Spiderman had just been to listen.

"Where did Tarantula-kid go?" He hissed to himself, feeling the strangest urge to hunt down the kid for the next ten hours. "It's almost like he was some sort of plot device used to get me out of the mix so that the author could fit in more adorable moments between the two main characters without my hilarious interruption and deciphering of further plot pieces." He mumbled.

There was a moments pause.

"Nah." He dismissed, standing up and looking around with an eagle eye for something he could use to track the spider-kid. "You guys go ahead!" He called over to Gambit and Rogue. "I'm going spider-hunting."

"I don't care what the hell you do!" Remy shouted back. "You just make sure you're at the target at 8:30 tonight."

"8:30- steal billion dollars of jewelry- gotcha." Wade repeated, already trailing off.

"I get the strangest feeling that he's going t' screw me over." Remy glared at Wade's retreating figure.

Rogue punched him lightly in the back from her seat behind him as a reminder that they should be going… _now._

"Right, right," Remy revved the jump-started engine. "I'm going, I'm going."

Rogue threw her arms around his torso to hang on as he tore out of the wreckage of the buildings, hopped a curb, and peeled out into the legitimate streets at the same moment Magneto finally woke up.

"Ugh." He grunted as he stood just in time to see Gambit disappear.

"I don't care what it takes," Erik scowled as his two cohorts roused. "I want that mutant on our side." He turned Pietro and John. "Round up anyone you feel necessary. Track him. Capture him."

"Anyone?" Pietro grinned.

Erik sighed, feeling like he was going to regret this decision.

"Anyone."

_

* * *

* What? Did you think they run around with underwear under those things? I want you to take a second and visualize the massive wedgies and horrid underwear lines that would result from that. And thus I am forced to assume that all superheros go commando. (Are we complaining?)_

_Aw, hell. I feel like I just _used_ Spiderman. Does that make me a bad person? And, I totally ditched Wade until a later time. That _totally _makes me a bad person._

_Well, hey- look on the bright side: Wade will be back, I opened the door for more cameos (Good God, I love cameos)and Remy and Rogue are finally alone again (*waggly eyebrows*)_


	8. Who? Me? Why, I'd never!

_I almost gave up on fanfiction right here. This very chapter drove me to the edge of my sanity (and sickness, as it seems my immune system is MIA) It's not the content of the chapter. No. I love this chapter. 'Tis silly. _

_But. I had to rewrite this chapter six times. And I hate, _I hate, I hate _sharing a computer. With anyone. Other people are icky. And they close all of my files without saving them (And I do mean ALL. I lost this chapter, the next chapter of Only The Good, the first chapter of a new one called Bitchfit and an outline I did for one called Kitty Pryde's Guide. FOUR TIMES! That is approximately five more times than I willing to tolerate. ) _

_Well then! Now that you've suffered my ranting for two paragraphs (Don't share your computer, kids!) lets get on with the story, shall we?_

_

* * *

_

X-23 was not pouting. Nope. Not her.

Her lip was sticking out because she bit it earlier when she had been running down the hallways. Her shoulders were hunched because she'd dislocated it earlier on the door of the stairwell. Her arms were crossed over her chest because she'd cracked a few ribs when she had thrown herself at the wall. She had been sitting on the curb, unmoving, for the past twenty minutes because… well, she hadn't come up with a reason for that one yet, but when she did it was going to be a damned good one.

"All I wanted to do was kill the Wolverine!" She moaned up to the sky, voice cracking slightly on the last few syllables.

Was it really so hard to get what you wanted? She had been through hell and back just to get a chance to stab him, and she couldn't even get that done without the entire affair turning into a debacle. And then the debacle turns into a hostage situation, and then that turns into a rescue attempt, and then everything just goes downhill from there.

It had just been one of those mornings.

But, if it was the last thing she did, she was _not _going to pout. Nope. Not her.

"Is it too much to ask for a little blood?" She wailed again.

However, it seemed that while she was so busy_ not_ pouting, she had missed the sounds of approaching feet.

_Sniktt._

"You want blood?" A guttural voice growled, snagging the back of her shirt and hauling her upwards. "Because that's what yer gonna get if you don't tell me where Rogue is!" Logan snarled.

"Who?" X-23 asked after the first few moments of shock wore off.

"Rogue!" Logan repeated in a snarl, balling one fist up in the front of her shirt and using it to keep her suspended off the ground, the other keeping an ever-closing in set of claws hovering in front of her face.

She gave him a blank look.

"The kid?" He tried again.

"Oh." X-23 grimaced.

"Oh?" Logan growled.

"Sorry," X-23 apologized with no actual tones of sincerity. "I've tried to expunge the situation from my memory."

"Well, you start rememberin' real fast right now." The claws found themselves at her throat.

X-23 sighed. A heavy, mopey sigh.

"Look," She interrupted his growl. "I'm busy right now. So if you could either kill me or put me down and be on your way I'm… very… _busy." _Her voice cracked and she started crying.

"Wa-ah!" Logan dropped her in a hot second, shaking his hands in the air as if the crying woman had infected him. There were very few things The Wolverine couldn't deal with- crying women were one of them.

"Why can't things ever be easy?" X-23 demanded, simply spent. "All I wanted to do was kill you! But _noooo. _The clone never gets what she wants! Can't kill _you, _can't kill _the girl, _can't kill the guy with the accent, what am I good for anymore? A killing machine that can't kill!" She sobbed hysterically. "Why can't I do anything right?!"

Logan looked around awkwardly.

"You- uh… You done?" He inquired after a few moments.

"I think so…" X-23 sniffed, sitting upright.

"You wanna tell me what happened to Rogue?" He asked.

"She was rescued." X-23 crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her lip, undeniably pouting now.

"By who?' Logan crouched down next to her, brow furrowed. He had lost the trail once he had reached the water logged building with the fire department parked outside.

"Some guy with a stupid accent and an exploding deck of cards." X-23 waved her hands in the air. "They jumped out of a window."

Logan pondered this for a moment as he glared at the sniffing girl on the ground.

"I have good news and I have bad news." He informed the girl as he grabbed her arm and hauled her upright, dragging her with him as he made a bee-line back to the motorcycle he had arrived on.

"And what's that?" X-23 snarled, clawing at his firm grip, her Wolverine-ish traits coming back into play.

"Good news- I'm ain't gonna kill you and you obviously aren't gonna kill me." He informed her. "I'm gonna go hunt down the kid."

"Bad news?" X-23 inquired as she was thrown on the back of the motorcycle.

"I have no idea what this guy smells like, so you," He glared at her over his shoulder. "Yer comin' with me."

"Oh," Her brow furrowed.

"Quit pouting." Logan snapped.

"I'm not pouting!" Nope. Not her.

'What's yer name, kid?" Logan asked after a brief pause as he fired up the engine on the bike.

X-23 contemplated this for a moment. Despite the fact that she was being tied in on a mission with the person she most despised in the whole world, it felt good to have a plausible objective again.

"Laura."

Rogue tapped her foot, eyebrows raised expectantly as Remy paced. Her personality currently suck on 'Impatient' in its fluxing between the three personalities she had absorbed.

"Don' look at me like that." He snipped once he caught he look again. "It's not _my_ fault every time I have to pull you out of a window I have to pause to regroup and come up with a new plan!"

She rolled her eyes and settled herself back into a sitting position on the motorcycle, crossing her legs as she continued to watch him pace.

"And it's not like you're doin' a whole lotta good here!" Remy barked in frustration.

"_Eu nu pot vorbi limba engleză." _She said in a reminding tone.

"Yeah, yeah," Remy waved her words away. "I remember- you can't speak English yet."

"_Da." _Rogue nodded, grinning.

"I got half a mind to say y' think this is all pretty funny." Remy turned to glower at her.

Rogue put on a 'Who? _Me?_' face.

"Yes _you._" Remy snorted, half feeling like he was talking to himself.

Rogue grinned at him again.

"Alright," Remy ran his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. "Here's our options as I see 'em: _Un- _I could bust int' a department store, steal y' some clothes and some money and we lay low in a bunch 'a shops and restaurants 'til this afternoon."

Rogue curled her lip with displeasure. There was no way she was going to be accessory to theft after everything that had already happened to her this morning.

"Fine, no t' that plan." Remy sighed. "_Deux- _I got a lady friend in the area-."

She scooped up a spent can next to her feet and hurled it at his head. The very last thing she wanted in this world was to meet any of his 'lady friends'.

"Alright, alright!" Remy ducked stealthily under the can. "No t' that one too. " He sighed. "_Trios- _I know a guy 'round here. I wouldn' exactly call 'im a friend, but he'd be able t' help us out."

Rogue smiled.

Remy pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And by 'I wouldn' exactly call 'im a friend' I mean he _hates _me."

Rogue added exuberant nodding to her smile.

Remy narrowed his eyes at her. "You tryin' to get me killed?"

'Who? _Me?'_

His glare gave way to a smirk as he shook his head at her innocent expression. "Y'r lucky y'r cute, _chere." _He informed her, shooing her away from the driver's portion of the seat.

She smirked deviously, adding a teasing vibe to her body language.

"Why do I feel like y'r gonna get me dead?" he sighed as he threw his leg over the bike.

She shrugged, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Remy grimaced slightly as she pressed herself against his back. Rogue noticed this and grinned. 'Deviant' took the place of 'Impatient' and teasing him became the best idea in the world.

She leaned in close- to close- her breath brushing against the hairs on the back of his neck as she twined her arms even closer to his torso, causing her chest to press closely into his back.

Remy inhaled a sharp breath and sent a questioning look over his shoulder. Not that he was complaining.

She was about to add another expression to communicate something close to 'cattiness' when her head perked up and a distracted look flitted across her face. 'Wary' swung in to replace 'Deviant'.

"You okay_?" _ Remy asked.

She slid off the seat, eyebrows furrowing with confusion as she stepped away.

"_Chere?" _Remy said again, attempting to snag her attention.

Rogue cocked her head to the side as she stepped forward tentatively, listening intently to the world around her.

"_Ai auzit?"_She mumbled.

Remy grumbled something under his breath about how he _still _couldn't speak Romanian as he pushed himself away from the bike, muttering darkly the entire trip to Rogue's side about her odd mood swings and their particular effect on him.

"C'mon, _chere,_" He grabbed her elbow softly and attempted to usher her back to '_Selene'_. "We gotta get goin'."

She ground her heels into the ground to stop their momentum, glaring up dangerously.

"What? What is it? What do you want?" Remy asked in exasperation, very near his limit on dealing with her with no verbal communication and impaired physical contact.

She pointed to her ears and stamped her foot.

Remy sighed heavily, but swallowed whatever snippy remark he was about to make and followed her silent instructions to listen.

"It's a motorcycle." He identified when he honed in on the roar. "So what?"

Rogue growled in frustration in the back of her throat, wishing she could tell him.

This wasn't just _any _motorcycle.

She threw her arms up in the air and stomped towards the end of the alley.

Remy growled deeply in his throat and contemplated for a moment whether he was going to follow her. Eventually his moralities took back over and he trudged behind her.

Rogue stepped out onto the sidewalk, head flying this way and that as she looked for the source of the roar. She squinted into the distance. Just when she thought the roar couldn't get any louder, it cut off completely.

Remy walked up beside her, completely prepared to openly share his grumbles with her.

The look on her face stopped him. Her brow was furrowed with vexation and her lip stuck out under her flaring nostrils.

"Y' alright?" He reached out for her.

She shook her head violently.

She couldn't see a motorcycle anywhere.

Rogue stamped her foot and made a sound of frustration in the back of her throat. She had thought for sure she had heard his motorcycle.

Remy spared a moment to sympathize with whatever she had gotten her hopes up for, only to have them be crushed.

"C'mon," He said in a coaxing tone, gently taking her elbow. She snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion, but allowed herself to be turned around. "You an' me, we'll go crash at my buddy's place f'r a few hours, den we'll-." Remy started to give her a plan to make her feel better, already understanding that she was a creature who enjoyed having a plan B, but came up short when he turned around.

"Who's he?" Logan growled as he looked over the stunned Cajun in front of him.

Laura shrugged from her spot behind him.

Remy and Rogue both wrinkled their brows in confusion.

For Remy, this was all bad news, him having already associated Laura with bad news and Rogue's kidnapping. Anyone in her company was automatically doomed to be grouped in with the 'Don't trust' list of folks in his head. Rogue attempted to step forward, but he caught her with an arm around the waist, holding her back until he could make better sense of the situation.

"_Logan ?"_ Rogue cocked her head to the side."_Ce faci cu ea?"_

"What?" Logan looked at her. "Was that … Romanian?"

"Rogue, y' know dis guy?" Remy asked.

"_Da." _Rogue nodded, but was unable to explain their exact relationship until she could speak English again, which she didn't know how long was going to be because she had never absorbed more than one person in such a short amount of time before. For all she knew it could be hours before she could tell either of them to cool their jets.

"Do you smell that?" Laura sniffed the air, interrupting whatever Logan was about to growl out.

"What?" Logan didn't spare her a look.

"Spices." Laura supplied, closing her eyes to better sample the night air. "Cheap soap. Expensive cologne. And… arousal?"

Remy immediately withdrew his hand from Rogue's waist.

Logan glared at the young man. "You're dead."

"Y'know," Remy growled as he looked over at Rogue. "I think I've figured it out. I've died and _you _are my eternal punishment."

She gave him a meek smile as Logan advanced.

* * *

_Annnnd I'm done. You don't get the next fight until I can figure out a way to make everyone stop getting into fights! That's four fights in nine chapters! …I _did_ put this under adventure…_

_You get an extra high five if you can figure out who Gambit's 'friend' is! _


	9. Well, I wouldn't say 'Friend' exactly

_And the winner of the extra high-five is_ tfobmn18! _(I didn't actually think anyone was going to guess correctly, everyone seems to forget about our good friend Lucas :D.) _

_

* * *

_

Rogue threw out her hand in a hot second, attempting to get a grip on Remy's coat before he bolted forward, but before her fingers even closed in the air, Remy was long gone.

"_Do not get in a fight with him! He is not a bad man! He is my... friend? Family? Just, please, stop fighting! Ah! Put the cards down! And the storm drain! And, Logan! There's no need to throw him like- Oh! Ow! Would you two stop it?"_ Rogue shouted with frustration because not only did it feel like she was talking to a brick wall, it felt like she was talking to a brick wall in Romanian. She screamed, stamping her foot and pulling at her hair as the fight continued in front of her despite her obvious protests.

"Just let them duke it out." Laura advised from where she was leaning against the wall behind her, the fire flaring up in the alleyway in front of them reflected coolly in her eyes. "I'm sure they will feel better once one of them dies." She nodded knowingly.

"_Dies?" _Rogue choked.

"I don't speak Romanian." Was all Laura responded.

"_Fiu de căţea!" _Rogue shouted out of shock as Remy collided with the wall next to her.

"Just stay outta the way, _chere." _Remy grunted as he stood up. "Soon as I can get my hands of those cute little claws of his, this is as good as over."

"Pretty sure of yourself, huh, Cajun?" Logan growled. "The closest yer gonna get to these claws is when they're cutting through you."

"That so?" Remy smirked, rooting through his pockets for another deck of card.

"Yeah." Logan started.

"_La naiba este, ascultă-mă_!" Rogue growled, finally fed up. She threw out her hands.

"Uh, Rogue." Logan grunted as his bones stopped responding to the command of his muscles. "What's going on?"

"Ow. Ow. Ow." Laura stared down at her hands as her claws worked their way out of her knuckles with out her consent. "What's happening?"

"_Chere?" _Remy backed away as the small fire flared into what looked like a very pissed off stallion.

"Funny thing about the powers I steal!" Rogue barked, so furious she didn't even notice she had tapped back in to English by accident. "It takes a while for them to ware off!" She snorted with rage.

"Why don't we take a deep breath now, kid?" Logan tried to put on a soothing voice.

"_NOW YOU'RE WILLING TO LISTEN TO ME WHEN I'VE GOT YOUR BONES ON HOLD, HUH?!" _

"I think that's our cue t' leave." Remy grabbed the back of her sweatshirt and dragged her, screaming and flailing her arms dramatically, back to Selene before the police were called.

"Wait!" Logan snarled- bones still unresponsive.

"I'm gonna go with '_non'._" Remy shot back, tearing off before Logan or Laura could move or Rogue could quell her vehemence for long enough to inform him of the situation.

Logan growled deep in his throat as he watched after them.

"What are we going to do?" Laura asked after a few silent moments.

"We're gonna hunt them down." Logan informed her. "And next time I see that boy, he's _dead_."

* * *

"He sure as hell seemed like a crazed psychopath t' me." Remy informed her.

Rogue simply continued to glare.

"How was I supposed to know he wasn't in cohorts with your once-was kidnapper?" He demanded.

Glare.

"And another thing-." He started.

"Just." Rogue cut him off before he could make more excuses. "Tell me where we are." She looked up at the very worn out looking apartment complex he had pulled up to.

"This," Remy smirked. "Is the home of one of my closest… 'fri-'." He nearly choked on the last word, having a hard time keeping a straight face while saying that. "Fri-." He tried again, reduced to laughter a second time. "Buddy." He finally coughed out.

Rogue glared at him. He shot her a charming grin and ushered her into the door, still chuckling.

"It's not gonna be so bad," Remy assured her as he guided her out of the stairwell onto the third floor.

She snorted again and set her shoulders in a grumpy slouch.

"An' here we are." Remy stopped her outside of a door with a number etched into the front that was so faded it was impossible to tell what it had been originally.

She threw a dirty look at him as he knocked on the door. He simply smirked at her.

There was a few seconds of silence in which Rogue continued to glare at Remy before a faint rustling was heard within the apartment they were standing outside of.

"This'll work." Remy grinned at her again.

She considered punching that cocky grin off of his face.

Before she could give in to the urge he elbowed her harshly in the ribs to sober her as the sound of locks scratching open echoed from the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" A deep, masculine voice called from the other side of the door, dragging slightly with a barely repressed yawn.

"Y'r mom." Remy snorted sarcastically. "It's four in de mornin', who de hell do you think it is?"

"Oh, Jesus," The man sighed. "If you're here with another one of your women, I'm not letting you in! And another thing-."

Rogue's eyebrows shot up on her forehead and Remy grinned sheepishly.

"_Non," _He interrupted quickly, obviously attempting to stop the sentence before it became any more incriminating. "The fact that she's wearing nothing but my sweatshirt is purely coincidental."

"It's entahly possible that Ah may despise yah." Rogue informed him.

Remy chuckled, just thinking the blush that was creeping up her cheeks was the prettiest thing.

A sound echoed from the other side of the door that indicated the man was repeatedly beating his head into the wall.

"Do I _want_ to hear this story?" He wondered out loud.  
"It's a great story." Remy assured.

The man sighed hard enough that Rogue was concerned he might have torn something before he finally gave in to curiosity. The final locks were flipped open and the door swung open, revealing a tall man with wide shoulders, dark skin, and what appeared to be an 'M' branded over his eye.

The man's eyes flicked from Remy to Rogue and then back to Remy.

"Alright, LeBeau," He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll bite. What'd you do to her?"

"Me?" Remy put on an affronted expression. "I'm wounded at the very implication, Bishop!"

Rogue continued to glare at him and Bishop grimaced almost audibly. Remy grinned at both of the and threw his arm around Rogue's shoulders.

"Is she pregnant?" He demanded.

"What?" Remy snorted. "No. Would I be that stupid?"

"Ah…" Rogue attempted to start a sentence to describe how utterly mortified she was, but words simply failed her.

"I suppose you want me to let you in, then?" Bishop inquired, leaning against the door frame at the precise moment before Rogue gave in to the temptation to break Remy's arm.

"And money." Remy nodded, slipping in through the crack left between Bishop and the other side of the door frame, dragging Rogue with him.

Bishop let a breath of air hiss out from between his teeth and his eye started to twitch ever so slightly as he contemplated how the next twenty minutes of his life were going to play out. He closed the door grimly behind him as he turned into the apartment.

"Y' got new curtains," Remy commented, inspecting the apartment.

"You blew up the last set." Bishop reminded him as he sat heavily on the couch.

"Ah, right," Remy nodded, taking a seat in a chair opposite Bishop. "I remember. You were trying to throw me out of the window."

"I wish I had succeeded." Bishop grimaced.

"Y'know, I read in this article somewhere that people who don't know how to express their romantic feelings physically manifest them as abuse." Remy looked pointedly at Bishop.

"You're buying yourself a one way ticket out that window again, LeBeau." Bishop growled.

"Excuse meh," Rogue interrupted politely, southern roots taking over and commanding she be courteous when 'invited' into someone else's home. "Ah don't mean tah impose, but is there a bathroom Ah could use?"

"Down the hall, first door on the left." Bishop nodded down the correct hall, small smile on his lips as he wondered how a nice girl like her could end up with a guy like Remy LeBeau.

"Thank yah." Rogue smiled graciously before following his directions.

"Hm." Bishop wrinkled his brow a few moments after she had disappeared.

"What?" Remy queried as he inspected a vase that had been placed

"Just wondering how a nice girl like that-." He began to relay his thoughts before bing interrupted by a very loud, very long, very high-pitched scream.

"_AHHHHHH!" _ Rogue dashed out into the room, pulling at her hair.

"_Chere?" _Remy bolted up out of his seat. "What's wrong?"

"YOU!" Rogue's eyes narrowed when she saw him. "YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

"Did what?" Remy started to retreat in a near panic as she advanced, growling like a jungle cat on the hunt.

"THIS!" She shouted, wielding her hair at him, which had begun to curl as it dried. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO STRAIGHTEN ALL OF THIS HAIR?" She balled up her fists in the front of his shirt and dragged him forward to eye-level. "_DO YOU EVEN _KNOW?"

"How is this _my _fault?" He demanded indignantly.

Her eyes seethed.

"Never mind!" He amended quickly. "But, I- uh- I think it looks _tres belle." _He nodded quickly.

Rogue paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Really?" She asked.

He nodded almost violently.

Rogue glared at him for another moment before she released her hold on the front of his shirt.

"Heck," Remy added because he just couldn't stop himself. "A few more curls and some makeup I might even ask y' out on a date."

She punched him in the shoulder, but was smiling with pleasure from the compliments nonetheless.

"I take back what I was about to say." Bishop rubbed his eyes, still sitting on the couch. "Look, you two." He said firmly once he looked up. "I don't know why you're here, but you better have a damn good explanation or I'm going to throw both of you out of the window."

Remy and Rogue exchanged looks.

"Do you wanna start or should I?"

* * *

_I think in two more chapters I might even be able to get the sun to rise. And you know, once the sun comes up the fun just doubles! Is anyone keeping track of how many people are after them now? _

_Hm… I was gonna put all of the Romanian translations down here, but, as of twenty four minutes ago it is officially the AM and I haven't gotten sleep in… I'm just gonna go with 'forever', I'm gonna cop out here and just inform you that all of it was ridiculous babbling and Romanian curses are beast. _


	10. Don't tease me, dear!

_You guys remember when a week was a long time for me not to update? Those were the times, huh? (The times where I had a laptop.) Fear not, my dears! Nine weeks is all I need to get my grades high enough my parents will fund half of a new computer! (I warn you now; I'm not terribly good at school… This could be a failure…) But, bare with me! I'm working! I just don't like writing when I'm sitting in a basement next to a door some creeper could bust through any moment and punch me in the baby-maker, but I digress. _

_Also. I apologize for this chapter… I just _had _to!_

_

* * *

_

"I never 'slathered' myself over John!"

"Then what would you call that 'slathering' I witnessed?"

"A hug between friends!"

"You were being held hostage, there are no such things as hugs between friends when you're being held hostage!"

"You were holding me _fake _hostage! And I wouldn't have even been in that mess if _you _weren't… _you." _

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Bishop stared up at the ceiling, sometimes imagining that he could see a white light piercing through the tiles, reaching down to release him from his torment. He had _known _he shouldn't have gotten up that morning. He had _known _he shouldn't have answered the door. He had _known _he shouldn't have asked them about how they had gotten there. And now here he was, contemplating clawing his eyes out as Gambit and his latest leggy number got into a tiff for the nth time since the story had begun.

_Make it stop. _He begged to whichever god would show the most mercy.

"_Fille, _if I didn' have to steal a diamond in sixteen hours, I'd-."

"Diamond?" Bishop perked up.

"Huh?" Gambit and the girl both turned to look at him, seemingly having forgotten he was there.

"You said something about stealing a diamond." Bishop sat up.

"Yeah. That's why I can't take Rogue here home yet." LeBeau nodded his head to the girl. "Weren' you paying attention?"

"I thought you weren't working freelance any more." Bishop crossed his arms over his chest.

"That was until I was shown the figures of this job." Remy leaned back smugly.

"Millions?" Bishop tried.

"Three to be precise." Remy grinned.

"Someone is paying you three million dollars to steal a diamond?" Rogue wrinkled her nose.

"This ain't just any diamond, _chere." _Remy informed her. "This is '_le diamant des transactions du Diable'_."

"The what?" Rogue smirked, obviously unimpressed.

"Y' got a computer?" Remy turned to Bishop.

* * *

"'_Le diamant des transactions du Diable' _means 'The diamond of the Devil's dealings'." Remy explained as he sorted through pictures on the internet. "It is _the _largest uncut diamond to have ever been imbedded into jewelry. The story goes that a French noble had this beautiful wife, but the only reason they had gotten married was to combine their lands. They couldn't stand each other, she thought he had forced her into being tied to him against her will through a ridiculously complicated plot involving seemingly unrelated items strung together in what might be construed as a mildly half-assed story*, and he thought she was insane. Until one day he looked up and realized he was smitten with her. Problem was she still hated his guts. Finally, after an agonizing amount of time trying to woo the women he was stuck with, he turned to the devil and begged him for a way to win his wife's heart.

"And?" Rogue asked from where she was perched on the arm of the chair, completely immersed in the story.

Remy grinned at her as he opened up a picture on the screen. "The devil gave him a diamond necklace to give to his wife that was unlike any other diamond ever seen."

Rogue's eyes went wide as she stared at the picture on the screen. It was the biggest diamond she could have possibly imagined, maybe the size of a small fist, but that wasn't the amazing thing about it. The majority of the diamond was the average clear/blue of a diamond, but at the core of the diamond the color sloped into an intense green, which was the same color of the jade embedded into the silver chain it was strung on.

"It's gorgeous!" Rogue gushed, leaning forward to get a better look. "Did it work?" She asked. "Did she fall in love with him?"

"Dunno." Remy shrugged. "If her affections were so easily purchased, was it really love?"

"Easily purchased?" Rogue snorted. "He made a deal with the devil!"

"His second mistake." Remy pointed out.

"What was his first?" Rogue

"Gettin' himself stuck with a crazy girl in the first place." Remy grinned.

"Oh! You!" Rogue smacked him. "It's a good story!"

"And you have to steal that diamond?" Bishop interrupted, having stayed off to the side for this entire exchange, lest he be dragged in.

"Yup." Remy leaned back in his chair. "Pretty good deal, I think."

"And you need somewhere to lay low _until _you can steal that diamond?" He continued to clarify.

"Yes again."

Bishop brooded for a moment.

"Alright- here's the deal." He stated clearly. "I will give you money. I will give you clothing. I will give you food. I want two things in return."

"What?" Remy eyed him, having never seen Bishop give in so easily.

"I want a good enough chuck of that money to send my sister through college, _and…_" He paused, possibly to give them time to consider, but more likely because he enjoyed the dramatic effect. "I need milk."

There was a pause.

"You mind runnin' that one by me again?" Remy requested.

"Milk." Bishop repeated. "Comes from a cow, sold in a jug, I happen to be out of it. _Milk._"

"You want us to get you… milk." Rogue crossed her arms over her chest.

"And some bread if you're going to be at the store." Bishop nodded.

Rogue and Remy shared a look.

"I'll go get some shoes." Rogue sighed.

"Y'r lucky I'm desperate." Remy informed Bishop as he grabbed his coat.

"Make it 2%!" Bishop shouted after them, laughing. "I can't stand that skim stuff!"

* * *

"I s'pose this could be worse." Rogue commented as she stared down at the ginormus rain boots she had apprehended from Bishop.

"I don' see how." Remy grumbled, gallon of milk under one arm, loaf of bread under the other as they stood in line in the small grocery store that mainly flourished on the sale of cigarettes, booze, and lotto tickets.

"We could be dead." Rogue shrugged.

"If I were dead I wouldn' be-." He glanced forward, counting quickly. "-sixth in line in a goddamn grocery store."

"Do you have some sort of irrational hatred of grocery stores I should be aware of?" Rogue smirked.

"No." Remy snorted. Rogue continued to stare at him. "…Maybe…"

Rogue 'snerk'ed at him.

"It's not that I hate grocery stores, I just hate the people who come here." At Rogue's questioning look he elaborated. "Do you know how many small chain, single-laned grocery stores are held up a year?" He inquired.

"No…" Rogue allowed, taking the milk from him as his clenched fists started to contort the plastic. "but, wouldn't that be more of a 'fear' than a hatred?"

"I _hate _robbers." Remy gritted his teeth.

"That's cute coming from a thief." She grinned.

The man standing in front of them tensed almost imperceptibly, just catching the last words of their conversation. However, neither Remy nor Rogue noticed.

"Thieves have a level of respect for the game." Remy snipped. "A code of honor, if y' will. Robbers are cheap bastards who cheat and hurt and scare their way int' stolen goods." He nodded resolutely. "And there is no honor there."

"Alright, alright!" Rogue grinned and held up her one hand that wasn't holding milk in surrender. "Yah win. Small chain grocery stores are dirty places where dirty people congregate." She laughed.

"Don't tease me." Remy growled. He was only mildly relieved as they took a step forward in line.

The woman who had just collected her bags hustled her way out the door, passing two lanky men as the slipped in.

Remy and Rogue lapsed into silence as the two lanky men saddled on up behind them, grabbing a few items off of shelves on their way, though not really paying attention to what. The man standing in front of them glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at the two men as they shifted uncomfortably. His hand slowly moved to his belt.

"C'mon, man." The shorter of the two men whined to the other. "I can't wait… Let's just get this over with!"

"Not yet!" The second one hissed.

"C'mon!" The short one moaned again. "I need to get some money to Jimmy in a half an hour, man!"

"Fine!" The second one growled. "But just because you're bein' so impatient!" He yanked a pistol out of the waist of his pants and fired off one shot. "THIS IS A ROBBERY!"

"I'd say 'I told you so'." Remy snipped at a mildly stunned looking Rogue.

"Everybody on the ground!" The fist drew his own, slightly larger, weapon.

"What do you want meh tah say, Remy?" Rogue snapped, throwing her arm in the air, the other still weighed down by milk. The men with the gun were only vaguely noted. "Ah'm sorry Ah teased you about hating grocery stores?"

"Lady!" The short one snapped at her.

"That's exactly what I'd like t' hear!" Remy crossed his arms over his chest, dropping the bread to the floor.

"Dude!" The other barked.

"Ah don't think I like yah tone, Mr. LeBeau." Rogue informed him, throwing the milk to the ground and crossing her arms to match his.

None of the parties involved in the shouting match had realized the man that had been standing in front of Remy and Rogue was the only person still standing, unmoving. His hand was resting on his belt as he lightly contemplated his next move.

"Oh yeah?" Remy dared, leaning forward intimidatingly.

"Yeah." Rouge growlied, rising to the challenge.

"I. Lied. About. Your. Hair." Remy spit out one syllable at a time. "Hahaha!"

Rogue gasped sharply. "You sonova-."

"Lady!" The short one barked again, louder this time so that he could successfully capture her attention, pointing the gun at her.

"What?" Rogue whirled, fire in her eyes. "Unless you got somethin' worth sayin', shorty, I suggest you butt out, because I have been through eleven circles of hell this mornin', and I am not about tah put up with _any _of your crap!" She stepped right up to the muzzle of his gun before Remy could grab her, just _daring _the dumb kid to make a move.

"Jesus H. Christ!" The short one cursed. "Crazy bitch!"

Rogue growled at him.

The man standing still in the center of the store still went unnoticed, fingers tapping out a tune on his belt as he waited for the opportune moment.

"Y'know." The other one robber drawled. "I think she's kinda cute."

"For a psycho." The other one muttered.

"Y'r right!" Remy intervened, getting a grip around Rogue's covered arm. "She's just not right in the head," He talked quickly, pretty sure if he talked fast enough he could talk his way right out the door, preferably unharmed.

"Let go 'a meh, swamp rat." Rogue growled. As she had stated before she was fully done with putting up with any crap whatsoever.

The rhythm of tapping fingers on a belt buckle kicked up a notch.

"If these _charmin' _young gentlemen want tah start somethin'." Rogue smirked slowly, glaring at the two men. "I'd be more than happy to finish it." She rolled up her sleeves.

"Psycho bitch." The short one breathed again.

"You wanna say that again, shorty?" She balled up her fists and set up her stance.

"Girl, you are insane!" Remy hissed, whipping out his bo staff behind her.

"I have been running on adrenaline and a _foul _mood since midnight." She shrilled. "I've had four minds run through mind, one of which I'd like to remind you was Deadpool- I've been held hostage twice, I learned Romanian, jumped out of two windows, and I hid from a collapsing building in a basement! _I'm allowed to start going a little crazy!" _

The man started humming to go along with his finger drumming as he stood in the middle of the chaos.

"Just clam down, lady." The taller one of the gun-wielders attempted to soothe Rogue.

Rogue took a deep breath that snorted out of her nose, running the numbers through her head at her chance of survival if she just kicked him in the nuts before disarming him.

"Good." The shorter one took a breath of relief as she seemed to calm. "That's a good psycho bit-."

"Goddammit." Was all Remy could squeeze out as Rogue launched herself at the short man, ducking out the way of a bullet as she went.

The drumming of fingers on a belt stopped as the first shots were fired. The man looked over his shoulder at all of the commotion, deciding now was close enough to the 'right time'. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled out a pair of pistols. His shirt was black save for a white skull that smeared across his chest.

* * *

_*...Don't judge…_

_Woof that was crazy, but then again, they are slowly going crazy as well. 'S cool, Rogue and Remy are going to be in a much better mood after they get a nap in. Oh, and- Frank Castle? Mother friggin' Frank Castle. _

_I'll be back! (Hopefully real, real soon!)_


	11. Cuddle all you want, more coffee for me

_I have no excuses other than I should be working on a giant satirical version of Da Vinci's Last Supper, where all the guests are not only historical figures, but also zombies right now. But, since that's a huge time suck for me, I'm just gonna go ahead and write you guys a chapter. _

_It's because I love you, not because I'm tired of trying to draw Shakespeare with his jaw missing. _

_Really._

_

* * *

_

_Warning: Course language ahead. Have you ever noticed how people yell the most nonsensical curses when they're hurt?_

* * *

Rogue's shoulder crushed into Shorty's stomach at the same second that Remy used his bo staff to swat Tall's feet out from underneath of him. Tall's gun scattered across the floor. Shorty's back crashed into a shelf stacked high with bottles filled with various colors of liquid that, as they shattered against the floor -adding a tinkling tenor to go along with the booming bass of gun shots- radiated the fragrance of alcohol.

"Uhg!" Rogue groaned as she tried to wrestle the gun out of Shorty's hands in the midst of their descent to the ground. However, Shorty fought dirty.

"Psycho bitch!" He hissed vehemently as he elbowed her in the stomach viciously, knocking her backwards into another, smaller, shelf of bottles.

Rogue went tumbling backwards with the shelf, glass shattering all around her.

"Rogue!" Remy shouted, his protective instincts trumping common sense for the time being as he leapt forward, leaving Tall unguarded.

Shorty whipped around, leveling his pistol at Remy. "_Chill out!" _He screamed.

Remy ground his teeth together, calling his motions to a halt as he discreetly rooted around his pocket for a deck of cards; however, it appeared that he had reached the end of his supply, as miraculous as that sounded.

"You okay, _chere?" _He called out, first priority being the girl he had gotten caught up in his business.

"I'ma 'bout tah bust my knuckles across someone's teeth, if that's what yah mean." She snarled, earning a grin from Remy. But, she took her time sitting up, aware of the shallow cuts scattered across her body and that her clothes were soaked through with various alcoholic beverages.

"Look," Tall grimaced as he collected his gun. "We don't want no trouble. We just came here for the cash drawer. So you and your psycho bitch chill." He addressed Remy, whom he had identified to be the more rational of the two. "Can you do that just for me?" He asked sardonically.

"Hey…" Shorty called as he looked around the store for the first time since Rogue had tackled him.

"What?" Tall snapped back without moving his eyes from Remy.

"…Wasn't there another guy in here?"

Frank Castle was not a man you crossed. In fact, he wasn't the sort of man you wanted under the impression that you were even thinking about entertaining of the thought of maybe perhaps doing something even mildly devious.

This was for two reasons.

Three, actually, if you wanted to count each individual gun as a reason.

The other was a nickname he had worked very hard for and was very sure he deserved.

The Punisher.

The light practically glowed off the white skull smeared across his chest as he used his thumbs to smack the hammers on each of the pistols he held firmly in his hands into an upright position and he straightened from the crouch he had held for the last few short seconds.

"_HOLY-." _Was all that Shorty had time to shout before Frank's giddy trigger finger twitched.

The sound of gun fire originating from an unknown source sent Remy sprinting, diving for Rogue's side.

"!" Shorty shrieked as he clutched his shoulder, which gushed a crimson river.

"Wha-." Tall turned, dumbstruck.

Well, since Frank's trigger finger was in _such _a good mood, who was he to tell it not to shoot?

"_Jesusmcchristingfuckerfucks!" _Tall shrilled, his hands wrapping around his flooding knee.

"Why do they always have to curse?" Frank sighed. Sooner or later the sound of slurred obscenities just became grating. "Stop it." He leveled one hand at each of them.

The whimpers subsided almost instantly.

"Now, I was just here for some juice." He informed them, nodding his head over to a carton of orange juice that appeared to have taken a bullet at some point in the evening. "And I don't appreciate it when my purchasing of juice is interrupted by armed robbery. Understood?" The question was accented by the chambering of a weapon.

"Y-yes sir." Tall hiccupped.

"No, I don't think you do." Frank continued in an almost conversational fashion. "Because if you did understand how unpleasant it is to be standing in line, juice in hand, and then have two guys come kick down the doors, guns blazing, you wouldn't have done it in the first place."

Shorty and Tall exchanged looks, at a loss for what to say next.

Frank sighed again.

"Stand up."

"But, I-." Tall started to complain about his knee.

"I would hate to spill anymore blood inside of this fine establishment." Frank growled. Tall found the strength to stand and not complain. Short quickly followed him. "Now, march yourselves on out that door." Frank jabbed his chin forward. Short and Tall followed instructions.

Frank followed shortly behind them, mumbling about how he had just wanted some juice.

"Have a good night, everyone." He called back over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.

A few moments of awkward silence followed that, because, really, what else was there to say?

"I'm neva' goin' anywhere with you again!" Rogue finally broke the silence with a snarl.

"How is this my fault?" Remy demanded as he helped her stand.

"I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you and your dumb ideas!" She raved as they started to walk towards the door.

"Yeah, you'd be shish kabob'd by that _femme _with the claws!" He shot back, holding the door open for her.

"Anything would be better than being stuck with you." She sniffed.

He scoffed. "_Chere, _you better be careful, 'cause you're startin' t' make me regret savin' your life all those times."

The door swung shut behind them.

There were another few moments of awkward silence before Remy and Rogue came stomping back in, grabbed the bread and the milk, and went stomping back out.

* * *

Bishop _heard _them coming long before he saw them.

"You called my hair ugly!"

"You were teasing me about hating grocery stores!"

"That's not the same!

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is _too!"_

"_Is not, is not, is not!" _

"What are they, five?" Bishop rolled his eyes, sincerely just wishing they had remembered the milk. He had already debated with himself the pros and cons of opening the door for them again, however, the pros had eventually outweighed the cons seeing as all he had to eat was cereal, and hadn't had any milk for a week. It wasn't like he was going to go down to the store. The little place on the corner was notorious for getting held up.

"You infuriating man!" Rogue practically screamed as she threw open the door to Bishop's apartment.

"Crazy _femme!_" He shot back, tailing closely behind her.

"You two are just like a ray of sunshine on my doorstep." Bishop cut in sarcastically without turning from washing a bowl in the sink. "Really. I'm going to have to invite you both over more often."

"We got you your damn milk." Remy snapped moodily, slamming down the carton next to the sink.

"And bread." Rogue added, plopping down the loaf next to the milk.

Bishop sniffed the air.

"Why do you smell like fourteen different kinds of liquor?" He asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

Rogue tugged at Remy's drenched sweater. "Is it that noticeable?" She asked fretfully.

"They can probably smell you at the airport." Bishop coughed, opening the small window above the sink.

Rogue blushed with mortification. Sleep deprivation was making her more sensitive to these sorts of things. Her eyes welled with tears.

Remy noticed.

"C'mon, _chere_," He wrapped one hand around her shoulder soothingly and started to steer her towards Bishop's bedroom. "Let's see if Bishop's sister left any clothes here."

"What?" Bishop whipped around.

Remy glared.

Bishop sighed. "Second door at the bottom of the hall is where she stays when she comes to visit. You can rinse off in the shower if you'd like."

"Thanks." Rogue sniffed.

Remy squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

* * *

Rogue wrung out her hair of excess water in the sink basin, towel wrapped firmly around her torso.

"At least I don't smell like vodka no more…" She lamented. But, no amount of lamenting was going to make her feel less awkward about being naked in someone else's house.

"_Chere?_" Remy knocked on the bathroom door. "Y' decent?"

"Does it matter?" She snorted.

"Nope. You're right, I'm comin' in." He chuckled, giving her another second or two before he actually opened the door, and even then, he averted his eyes. "Brought you some clothes." He explained, holding out a bundle of clothes. "These were the only things that looked like they would fit you." He explained.

"Oh," She pulled the bundle out of his hands and sorted through it. "These are… uh… nice…"

"His sister likes black." Remy shrugged apologetically.

"I'll make do." She allowed, turning to grab Remy's sweater that she had washed in the shower along with herself.

Remy breathed in sharply from behind her.

"What?" Rogue turned back around quickly.

"When did that happen?" He turned he back around by the shoulders to get a good look at her mostly bare back.

"When did what happen?" Rogue's mind ran through a quick list of any and everything he could be talking about, but, after a few moments convinced herself there wasn't an alien or tattoo on her back.

"It's a _big _scratch."

"I don't feel a thing…" She protested. Yeah, there had been some blood on the sweater and the nightdress, but she had figured all of her cuts and bruises were diminutive.

He ran his gloved fingers across her back.

"Felt that." She ground out from between clenched teeth, vision momentarily blurred with pain.

"You hurry up and put on some pants and I'll fix you up." He instructed, leaving no room for argument as he closed the door behind himself.

* * *

"Ow." She squirmed underneath of his hands.

"Quit movin'." Remy snipped from his spot on the couch.

"Quit hurtin' me." She snipped right back.

"This is your fault." He reminded her.

"Really?" She sounded bemused.

"If you didn't keep getting into trouble, I wouldn't havta dig up the first aid kit in every apartment we end up in." He smirked.

"Would you just hurry up?" She sighed. "As fun as it is havin' you patch up my back, I'd like to put shirt on sometime in the near future."

"And how many times in my lifetime am I gonna have the opportunity to get you with your shirt off?" He chuckled.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause this is gonna be the first and last." She winced as he taped down the last corner of the gauze.

"Alright, 'M done." Remy dismissed.

"Finally." Rogue quickly pulled the black shirt that had been sitting on her shoulders down until it hit the waistband of the black jeans she had borrowed. "Took you long enough." She settled herself in comfortably on the couch.

Remy shrugged noncommittally.

Awkward silence ensued.

"I suppose there are dumber things to hate than grocery stores…"

"I lied…I really did think your hair looked pretty…"

It took them a few seconds to pull apart the almost-apologies because they had both spoken very quickly at the same time.

"Aw," Remy grinned after a moment. "You like me."

"I didn't say that!" Rogue protested. "I jus' said that maybe you weren't being stupid. 'Sides, _you _were the one who said that I looked pretty."

"Just your hair." Remy defended.

"The hair's part of the 'Rogue package'." She informed him.

"Really?" He stroked his chin and smirked deviously. "And what else comes with this 'package'?"

Bishop could hear Remy being smacked from in the kitchen. He barely spared half a moment to roll his eyes as he flipped through the channels on the small television he kept on the counter to keep him company when he cooked.

He paused for a moment on the news.

After watching a couple of stories, one about the fire department discovering a break-in at a government building, another about a building collapsing into the street, something about Spiderman being chased by an unknown suspect, and the last story about a grocery store being held up before the robbers were walked out of the store by a man with a skull on his shirt, the kettle on the stove finally reached a boil.

"Finally." He grunted when he got up, pouring the boiling water into the dripilator for fresh coffee. "Lovebirds," He called over his shoulder. "Coffee's done."

There was no response.

Bishop wondered for a moment if they could have killed each other without him hearing.

He sprinted into the living room. He stood there dumbly for a few moments, because, even though his eyes were communicating what he supposed was reality to his brain, he needed a few moments to fully absorb it.

Remy was asleep, head lolling off the arm of the couch, one boot resting on the coffee table the other propped up on the other arm of the couch. Rogue was curled up on his chest, her wet hair soaking through his shirt. The rise and fall of their chests was in sync.

Bishop didn't know whether to find it somewhat adorable or gag.

"Maybe they'll be in a better mood after some shut eye." He reasoned as he walked back in to the kitchen before pouring himself a cup of coffee and turning to watch the sky out of the window above the sink. "But they're missing one hell of a sunrise."

_

* * *

_

_YES. SUNRISE. AHAHAHAH. _

_Review? Porfavor? _


	12. Obviously 'Please' is not the Magic Word

_Have you ever gone to spell the word 'coarse' and accidentally spelled 'course'? I have. It's embarrassing._

_Also, have you ever put 'Spiderman swallowed thickly' four times within six sentences? Also embarrassing. _

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, come on!" Pietro whined, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet impatiently.

"I said no, Pietro." The woman sitting at the table in the small coffee shop said without looking up from her book. Her curtain of black hair contrasted sharply with Pietro's stark white. The tips that scraped against her shoulders were dyed a deep red.

"_Please!" _He got down on his knees, grabbing her hand and groveling. "Please, Wanda! I've never asked you for anything in my life!"

"You asked me for money yesterday!" Wanda Maximoff, Pietro's older-by-two-minutes twin sister, attempted to yank her hand out of her brother's grip with little to no success.

"But that wasn't important! _This is life a death!" _He whispered/shouted.

"You're making a scene!" Wanda wrinkled her nose, noticing that everyone else out grabbing their early morning coffee before heading off to work was staring.

"A scene?" Lightning struck his brain. "You don't want me to make a scene?"

"No, I don't! Now get up off the floor!" She snapped.

Faster than she could see Pietro stood and leapt up on to the table. "Well, if it's a scene you want!" He yelled loudly and anyone who had attempting to stare discreetly gave up and just ogled.

"Pietro!" Wanda hissed. "Get down off the table _right this instant!" _

"Or what, you'll beat me again?" He cried. Everyone in coffee house gasped.

"I never-" Wanda blushed and jumped in quickly in an attempt to explain that she wasn't in an abusive relationship with the man screaming on the table, the idiot was just her brother, who, apparently, had no shame.

"You never?" Pietro snorted indignantly. "What about this?" He demanded, stripping off his shirt. Wanda plopped her forehead into her palm. Streaked across his chest were the bruises he had collected from his tussle with Gambit this morning.

Gasps and murmurs shot up around the coffee house.

"I. _Hate. _You." Wanda growled.

"You love me." Pietro grinned before turning to the coffee house again. "She's a monster! Monster, I tell you! _Monster._"

"If I agree to go with you, will you get off the table and put on your shirt?" Wanda started to cave.

"Yup." Pietro smiled triumphantly, leaping off the table, giving one wink to the cute barista before shrugging on his shirt.

"You do realize I can never go in there again?" Wanda grumbled as they stepped out on the sidewalk together, early morning New York City awake and running.

"Eh, don't much care. We've got bigger fish to fry!" He declared. "Our father wants us to secure him a new friend!"

"If by 'secure' you mean 'kidnap', and by 'friend' you mean 'useful liaison'." Wanda snorted. "And besides, I hate _your _father."

"So the man misses a couple of birthdays," Pietro rolled his eyes.

"Twenty. Twenty birthdays."

"Are you going to hold that against him forever?"

"Not forever, just until I die." Wanda grimaced as Pietro threw an arm around her shoulders.

"C'mon!" He grinned. "We're going Cajun-hunting!"

Wanda rolled her eyes, but followed him.

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, come on!" John whined as he trailed after a leggy blond woman through the streets, which she moved through as if she were liquid and he tromped through like a platypus attempting to fly.

"I'm not doing Magneto's dirty work anymore." The blond tossed over her shoulder distastefully. "Go ask Victor."

"I asked Vicky first." John snorted and rubbed a tender spot on his bum from where he had been unceremoniously kicked out of Victor Creed's 'den'.

"Then ask Jamie." The blond snorted as she ducked in to a shop on a corner.

"He's out of town." John moaned, following her in to the store, which only had a large wooden gun plastered where a store name would normally be located.

"Then go ask… anyone else. I don't much care." The blond growled, skirting her way around racks and racks of expensive looking guns, plucking a few hunting knives off a table as she went.

"I even tried asking Freddy!" John explained. "I'm desperate here!"

"I don't care." The blond didn't even look at him as she slapped down her weapons on the front counter. "I'm not going to gallivant about the city with you in search of this 'Gambit' man." She sneered.

"Please," John went to his knees in front of her, fingers meshed in a pleading gesture. "I have never asked you for anythin'. Help me track down this Gambit bloke. It shouldn't be too hard considerin' he's draggin' Rogue with 'im where eva' 'e goes to use as collateral."

The woman turned sharply, her eyes flashing yellow. "He has Rogue?" She growled.

"Uh… yeah." He looked confused as to why this particular bit of information would be so interesting to her. But, if it would work….

"Rogue." She repeated. "White streak in her hair, Anna-Marie, _Rogue?" _Her forehead creased with every word, lips forming a snarl.

"Legs that go all the way up, green eyed, untouchable Rogue. Yeah!" He clarified.

The woman clenched her fist and her teeth.

"Uh…" John noticed her eyes flash yellow again. "You okay there, Ravey?"

"He's holding Rogue hostage?" She repeated one last time to make sure she had her story straight.

"Last time we ran inta 'im he was." John nodded.

"He's dead." Raven 'Mystique' Darkholme growled, her pale skin shifting to a more natural blue, as odd as that sounds. "I'm going to kill him." She growled once before grabbing the hunting knives off the counter, not even bothering to pretend to pay for them as she stomped out the door.

"Wait!" John tailed her closely. "We aren' s'posed ta kill 'im!"

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, come on!" Spiderman whimpered from his spot pinned against the wall.

"Question:" Deadpool grinned as he smacked the hammer on the pistol in his right hand, gesturing animatedly with his left. "When I shoot you will you bleed red or yellow?"

"Uh…Why would I bleed yellow?" He asked hesitantly.

"Have you ever squished a spider?" Deadpool asked.

Spiderman swallowed thickly.

"Say goodbye." Deadpool instructed as he leveled off his aim.

"Goodbye." Spiderman complied, sniffing. "And I never even got to ask Mary Jane to the prom." He mumbled under his breath.

"Say what now?" Deadpool hesitated.

"Mary Jane." Spiderman sighed. "She's this girl at my school I've wanted to ask out since forever."

"She hot?"

"Beautiful."

"And you want to score with her."

"I've always wanted to ask her out." Spiderman explained bashfully.

"And so you thought 'I should just run around in red spandex. Surely she'll love me once she sees me wearing red spandex!'?" Deadpool wrinkled his nose.

"Well…" You could hear the blush in his voice.

"Oh, my god." Deadpool dropped his gun hand to his side and ran his hand over his forehead. "I can't kill you now, I feel bad for you!"

Spiderman was stuck on taking this as good or bad news.

"In fact!" He stood up straighter as he got a genius plan. 'Genius' by Deadpool's standards, that is. "I'm gonna help you win the heart of fair maiden!"

"Uh…" Spidey swallowed. "That's really not necessary…"

"Which is what makes me such a good guy!" Deadpool grinned, slinging his arm around Spiderman's shoulders. "C'mon, Spider-kid! I'm gonna teach you how to be cool. Like in one of those romantic comedies where the chick asks her best dude-friend for help being more attractive to this hunky guy and her and her best friend end up falling in love and making out, only not at all."

That was around the time where Spiderman started to wish he'd gotten shot.

"Come on!" Deadpool beckoned. "I've got until eight tonight!"

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, come on!" Laura harrumphed.

"I already told you." Logan growled back from his crouch in the middle of the road. "_I _get to kill him."

* * *

Remy breathed in one cleansing breath of waking before actually opening his eyes blearily and stretching his arms over his head and arching his back as he yawned before going limp again on the couch, eyes closing once more.

He stayed like that for a good five minutes more, drifting in an out of varying stages of awareness before he realized that the reason he couldn't breathe correctly was because there was something on his chest.

Without really thinking he wrapped his arm around whatever the soft, warm thing was and rolling over so that they were both laying down flat on the couch, figuring that the soft, warm thing would be more comfortable that way.

He yawned again, wrapping his arm tighter around the soft, warm thing so that it was tucked in to his chest, limiting the risk of it falling off the couch. With a content sigh he settled back down, resigning himself to sleep again.

It wasn't until the soft, warm thing rolled over and snuggled in to his chest unconsciously did his eyes snap open, wide awake.

The pattern of the fabric of his shirt was pressed in to Rogue's exposed cheek, the other side of her face resting on his shoulder. Her curly hair was wild and, judging by the dampness of his shirt, had just recently dried.

He stared at her for a moment, thinking about the small ray of sunshine that had settled across her cheekbone and how he might consider trading place with it before feeling awkward and attempting to slip out from underneath of her. However, somewhere in the duration of their nap they seemed to have gotten tangled.

Her head was on his shoulder, which led to the arm that was hanging off the side of the couch, slowly losing circulation. His other arm was wrapped around her waist, hand tucked under her hip, also losing circulation. Her arm was tucked under his torso, and, hell, that was probably losing circulation too. Her other arm was connected to the hand which was connected to the fingers she had unconsciously wound in the hem of shirt, which had been stretched throughout the morning to end at nearly his thighs. And their legs were so mixed together he didn't even want to think where one of them began and the other ended.

"_Merde." _Remy muttered as he tried to think about how he was going to get himself out of this one without waking her up. Nothing came to mind. "Uh…" He decided to start by trying to slip his arm out from under her head.

Rogue breathed in sharply and readjusted her head so that it was farther up on his shoulder.

"That was counterproductive." He sighed.

Rogue hummed something in her sleep and snuggled deeper into his shirt.

Remy smiled. He thought she'd been cute when she was screaming bloody murder at him. She was even cuter when she wasn't.

His breath mingled with hers for a moment before he started feeling awkward again.

She was asleep, she was untouchable, and she had pointed out more than once that she hated him.

Remy grunted with effort, this time starting with his hand tucked under her hip.

She mumbled something in her sleep and unconsciously pressed her hip into his hand, preventing movement.

"_Eh bien, enfer!" _Remy began to fear that he would be stuck there until she woke up.

"Do you need some help?" Bishop chuckled from his spot in the doorway of the kitchen, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee.

Remy craned around his neck to get a better view of the mutant in the door.

"…Maybe…" He allowed.

"Why don't you just wake her up?" Bishop inquired.

"She deserves a couple of minutes of sleep." Remy explained. "She's had a rough day so far."

"By a couple of minutes do you mean an hour and a half, because that's how long you two have been on that couch." Bishop hid his smug smile behind the rim on the coffee cup.

"An hour and a half?" Remy's eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "How could you let me sleep for so long?' He demanded.

"You two seemed pretty cozy on the couch together. I didn't want to interrupt." He didn't even bother to hide his smug smile this time.

"Help me up!" Remy hissed, and then regretted it when Rogue stirred lightly.

"What's the magic word?" Bishop asked, bemused.

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, come on!"

* * *

_I am going to take this time to ask you one big question, because I've been on the fence about it this entire story. Should Rogue be able to touch Remy. it's not going to really affect the story line any which way, but I never really write them being able to touch, and since this story is an entire plethora of 'New!' for me, why not start now? Of course, if they _can _touch, I might have to boost this story's rating up to M, if you know what I mean ;D ;D _


	13. When Geoffreys attack!

_Sup homies? Home-skillets. My little McMuffins. My darling, darling readers whom I adore endlessly. This entire line got really ridiculous really fast, but I can't find it in myself to delete it. Eh, such is life, no? Sometimes you're gonna be compared to a McMuffin affectionately, and there's approximately jack you can do about it. You gotta put on your man-belt and deal. _

_Another one of our (your? my?) top stories is about __**Lucida Lownes, **__who won my super-secret review contest to see who got 200__th__ review (Because I can.) She won a chance at any prize she could think of from me. Stories, chapters, dedications. And she chose for some *BUH DUH BAH BAH!* -PRODUCT PLACEMENT!- _

_But, fo' shizz now y'all, you should go check out her second-generation __**X-Men Evolved **series, she does a lot of cool work with original characters__. It's super-delicious. (Ten points if you get the cultural reference. It's okay if you don't, though. It's from a commercial. Oh, dear Lord. I just referenced a commercial for a cheap giggle. Is this what rock bottom feels like? (Because, if so, it feels a lot like 'My ass hurts from falling into the crappy river/creek at the mini-golf course and now I'm on a pain killer that makes everything seem really chill', but, I digress)) Also, in other news, my life is hilarious._

* * *

The first thing that Rogue noticed as she took her first, deep waking breath was the thick, masculine scent of spices and leather that surrounded her. Some other third aroma weaved between the thickness of the spices and leather. It wasn't something she could identify in her barely awake state. It was rich and welcoming, definitely a relief from the overwhelming smell of alcohol she had been forced to suffer through. She inhaled deeply as she snuggled in to the smell, submerging herself in the amazing aroma and the warmth that came with it.

Humming with content, she rolled over…

…right off the edge of the couch.

"Wah!" She shrieked out of surprise on her way down, hitting the ground hard in an awkwardly contorted position. "Ow…" She whined, gently rubbing where her backside had struck the hardwood floor harshest while bemoaning her bad luck. It took her a few seconds as she looked around in a dazed state to realize where exactly she was and what she had been doing all morning to earn this level of soreness throughout her entire body.

Her surroundings had changed. Nothing too drastic, just enough to inform her that the world had continued to function as she had slumbered. The early morning sunlight scattered across the floor in patches that filtered from the dirty windows.

Rogue grunted with discomfort as she stood stiffly, muscles complaining and bones creaking in protest. Sucking in a tight breath she stretched her arms high over her head until her spine cracked back into alignment and her muscles eased slightly.

Sighing with content, Rogue rolled her shoulders happily and turned to go hunt for Remy.

Something spread across the couch caught her eye.

_Remy's coat? _Rogue plucked the duster up off of the cushions. _How on earth did that get there? _She pursed her lips and inspected the coat. It was well worn, broken in. The pockets were weighed down with God-knows-what. The bottom hem was slightly ragged. It was comfortably soft against her bare fingers to the point where she was tempted to caress it in much the same fashion she might a kitten.

A ghost of a smile passed over Rogue's lips as she indulged herself, stroking the sleeve.

"What were you doing on the couch?' The questioned the coat in amusement. "I musta been asleep right on top of you." She glanced back over to the couch where she had just woken up.

The color faded from her cheeks as she finally connected the dots.

She looked with wide eyes from the couch to the coat and back again.

Hesitantly, she leaned forward and lightly sniffed the collar.

It smelled like leather, spices, and some other third thing that she couldn't quite identify. If she had to name it, it would have been 'Adventure'. Remy LeBeau smelled like leather, spices, and adventure.

And she _liked _it.

A rosy hue flooded her face. She was embarrassed. Mortified, even. She felt like she had taken something slightly intimate from him. Regardless of how unintentional the theft had been, she felt… awkward.

"Sorry." She whispered to the coat as she smoothed it back out on the couch cushions.

She didn't even pause to consider that Remy was the one who had thoughtfully draped the coat across her sleeping form after he had finally slipped out of the people-puzzle the two of them had been not even a half an hour ago.

She stalked in to the kitchen, hoping to God that Remy wasn't in there.

Maybe if she had been a good girl and kept up on her prayer and church-duties in times when her life wasn't in mortal peril God would have considered _maybe _answering her newest prayer.

As it was, no such luck.

"Mornin', _chere." _Remy looked up from the newspaper he had been perusing.

Bishop merely grunted out a greeting, more interested in his coffee than her entrance.

"Uh… Mornin'." She waved awkwardly, the sleeve of the shirt she had borrowed falling over her hand and flopping from side to side.

Remy frowned when he noticed.

"Well, that certainly won' do." He clucked as he stood. "We need t' get y' some clothes that fit."

"An' shoes…" Rogue gazed down at her bare feet.

Remy tapped his finger against his chin for a moment seriously before a slow grin stretched across his face. He turned to look at Bishop.

"Whatever it is- No." Bishop said without even looking up.

"I'll get outta your hair for the rest of the day." Remy bargained.

Bishop's eyes narrowed hesitantly. "What do you want?"

* * *

Remy whistled to himself contentedly as he tossed Bishop's wallet from one hand to the other. Rogue followed behind him, breathing heavily under the beating sun.

"I'm _dying!" _she complained, pulling at the collar of her black long-sleeved shirt. She was looking very fashionable in said black shirt, black skinny jeans, and a green pair of men's rain boots.

"Suck it up." Remy snorted over his shoulder at her.

"How do you do it?" Rogue shot a pointed look at his trench coat, which he had noticed she had developed an odd avoidance to.

"I've acclimated." He informed her with a knowing nod.

"Ack." She huffed. Remy noticed her cheeks had turned a very pretty rosy color.

"C'mon," He waved her forward. "We're almos' there."

"For your sake, we better be." She growled.

He chuckled at her as he pulled her forward into a double storied department store where they were greeted by a cool gust of air and a short, bald, well-dressed man.

"If you aren't here to change her outfit, get out." The man said as way of introduction. The name tag on his silk vest read _Geoffrey, _(Because spelling it normally would have been tacky) _Manager._ They assumed he worked there. "And, good lord, boy, if I have to stare at that hideous- what is that? A trench coat? Ug.- for a second longer than I have to I'm going to gouge my eyes out with last season's Prada shoes."

Remy and Rogue exchanged a look.

"Don't just look at each other!" Geoffrey threw his arms up in the air dramatically. "You," he pointed to Rogue. "That way. Red dress. You'll know it when you see it. It should make you look like more of a classical beauty. Very summery. And, you," He turned to Remy. "Just… God, do people still wear trench coats? It's… _inhumane. _You go that way. Dark red dress shirt. Black jeans. It should make you look vaguely rugged whilst still saying 'I didn't dress myself in a dark closet full of dirty, oversized clothes this morning'."

Remy and Rogue looked to each other again, both afraid to make any sudden movements.

"Would you two get moving?" Geoffrey snorted and waved them away to their respective locations. "I swear. If attractive people didn't have me to tell them what to wear, there wouldn't be any of them left." He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot as he watched the couple retreat hastily. He seemed to have that affect on people.

* * *

"Why are we doing what he says?" Rogue called out from her dressing room as she slipped on the red dress she had been directed to.

"Because he's scary." Remy called back from his spot lounging in a chair that had been thoughtfully provided. He was already dressed in a spectacular looking dark red shirt and black jeans. However, the coat remained firmly in his possession.

Boredom had set in quickly after he had played three games of solitaire waiting for Rogue to change.

"Be that as it may, I can't just go runnin' around in… this." She finally stepped out into the open.

Credit where credit was due, Geoffrey knew his stuff. The bright red dress flowed around her in a swirl of happy fabric. It made her giggle just looking at it. It fell around her curves in a way that was to her best advantage, the neck line swooped low, the hem line ended high. At the same time it maintained an air of elegance.

Remy fought to keep his eyes from glazing over as he watched her twist and turn.

"Oh, if I weren't showin' so much skin…" Rogue mused as she appraised her reflection.

Remy frowned, honestly disappointed.

"Wait!" Rogue perked up suddenly, causing Remy to start before she took off back into the store, returning a few moments later with a handful of clothes. "I'll be right back!" She called as she disappeared back into the dressing room.

"I'll… wait here…" Remy slumped back into his seat.

After a few minutes of whistling aimlessly and performing card tricks for himself Rogue stepped back out, fixing a pair of black, open backed leather gloves on her hands. A light cotton button-up sweater with three quarter sleeves covered the majority of her arms and a pair of thin black tights covered her legs.

"Better?" She smiled at him when she noticed him watching her.

He didn't want to flat out say he liked the outfit better the first time around, but, considering the only way he was going to get her to go out into the world and _out of this store_ was if she was covered up, he really had no other choice but to smile and nod encouragingly.

Rogue smiled brightly at him, face lighting up.

"Now all I need is some shoes." She scampered away, laughing lightly.

Remy groaned and collapsed backwards into the chair.

* * *

"See, that wasn't so bad." Rogue rubbed Remy's shoulder encouragingly as they walked back out on to the street because he looked shell shocked.

"It was awful." Remy shuddered, still reeling from the tongue lashing he had received from Geoffrey about his decision to not only keep the coat, but wear it outside ('_You do realize people outside can see you? Well, I commend you, brave soul. Consider yourself lucky if mothers don't shield their children's eyes at your approach and cry out dramatically 'Oh god, why? I've never seen one of those things outside of an old fashioned detective movie!' I hope you swelter.) _

"…No. You're right. That was awful." Rogue grimaced as well and spared a sympathetic look at the boots she had picked out. (_'What are those things on your feet? Shoes? No. Shoes have style. Shoes have curves. Shoes have _arch support. _Those clunky things are monstrosities. You've ruined the simple beauty of the look I created! Are you invading Normandy? No? Here, poor child, take my card. When you see the errors of your ways, call me.') _

"I feel… so insecure right now." Remy laughed and shook himself dramatically as he tossed their shopping bags, loaded with the clothes they had been wearing beforehand, into the garbage.

Rogue laughed with him. "For such a short, bald man, he was sure…"

"Terrifying." Remy finished for her.

"But, I must say," Rogue grinned deviously. "That shirt does make you look rugged."

"And that dress certainly makes you look like a classical beauty." Remy returned the compliment and her grin.

They fell into a companionable silence as they wandered about for a couple of minutes before Remy turned to her. "Wanna go get some breakfast?"

Rogue pretended to consider for a moment before smiling. "Why, I'd love to, Mr. LeBeau."

* * *

"It's a thankless job," Geoffrey Shults sighed to himself as he straightened his vest and picked at an invisible ball of lint on his shirt. "But somebody's got to do it." He thought back to his most recent customers, that absolutely adorable couple that had just wandered in. They had stumbled in fashion disasters, but Geoffrey felt that he had kicked them back out into the world, if not completely saved from their lives of fashion sin, better dressed.

He smiled as he thought about the two of them. She had blushed every time she had looked at him and he had practically doted on her every move. And when she laughed he closed his eyes, like he wanted to savor the sound. And when he wasn't looking, she would lean forward unconsciously and breathe him in.

They were so sweet it literally made him gag.

As he felt the door at his back open again, Geoffrey turned back around to greet his newest customers.

"I…am so appalled I just don't know where to begin." Geoffrey breathed as he looked over the two.

"Just point me in the direction of the little spider's section." Deadpool dismissed, holding on to the back of Spider-man's neck as he tried to escape.

"That way." Geoffrey pointed.

Deadpool nodded once and then dragged the struggling teenager with him in the direction Geoffrey had indicated.

"The things I put up with." He sighed significantly after the pair had wandered away.

_

* * *

__1.I know a Geoffrey. He works at my local Nordstrom's. I swing by every once and a while for verbal harassment and fashion advice. He's made out of fear and magic. _

_2.I feel bad because Geoffrey wasn't a Marvel character. :c …They can have him if they want, but there was nobody I could think of to use… _

_the kitten is coming! Bill and Tony Stark show up at around the same time, so look forward to that._

_I4.'m going on a trip! For a month! Without internet! (Le bummer.) So yeah, next Thursday I'm bailing out on you guys to roll on down to North Carolina. Getting a job, hanging out with my grandmother. All that fun stuff. So, this is going to be the last you'll hear from me for a month (longer if I die on the car trip to or back) unless I can scrounge up a computer and a coffee house. (I'm basically MacGyver when it comes to these sorts of things, so feel free to hope.)_


	14. And things were going so well!

_QUADRUPLE celebrity appearance this chapter to make up for the lie that is Geoffrey! (Who will make another appearance, because he refused to be silenced) So who on earth could I bring in now?_

_Now, let's continue with our crazy love-filled Romy train (as blackberryhunttress has entitled it :D) _

* * *

Rogue thanked the waiter graciously as a plate of omelet, bacon, hash-browns, and strawberries was set down in front of her, her side order of three plain pancakes soon following. Her cup of coffee, sugar, and cream, and a glass of ice water skirted the outside of the plate.

Remy sat across from her with a cup of black coffee and a half a dry bagel, giving her a dubious look.

"What?" She demanded when she caught the look he was giving her and her collection of food.

"Y'r plannin' on eating all that?" He inquired hesitantly.

"Is that a problem?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"_Non, non, non," _He amended quickly, waving his hands. "_Mais, _that is a lot of food, _chere." _

"So?" She cocked an eyebrow. "You worried that it's all gonna go straight to my thighs?"

Remy wheezed a sigh, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle that he wasn't willing to deal with the repercussions of. "Nevermind." He gnawed on his bagel to keep his mouth from moving in word-type shapes.

Rogue watched him speculatively for a moment, smile playing around her lips.

"What?" Remy snorted when she hadn't redirected her attention back to her food.

"Did you steal one of my strawberries?" She grinned.

"…Maybe." He smiled innocently, practically ensuring his guilt.

"You've got powdered sugar all over your face." She giggled, and then laughed loudly when he turned to the napkin dispenser to check his reflection.

"Where?" He inspected his reflection. "I don't see any sugar." He said despite the very obvious sugar smears.

Rogue rolled her eyes, amused, and shoved a napkin at him. "Just wipe it off."

He scrubbed at his face, his stubble scraping at the paper napkin as he deliberately missed the smudges. "Did I get it?" He grinned.

"You're obnoxious." Rogue accused.

"I prefer to think of it as 'charmingly endearing'." Remy informed.

Rogue snorted with amusement. "Hold still." She instructed as she pulled out another napkin, swiping it against the condensation on the outside of her water glass with on hand as she leant forward and caught his chin with her other.

He made a protesting/whining sound that Rogue would have expected of a child as she not-so-tenderly scrubbed the sugar off for him.

"Oh, hush up." She laughed as she buffed off the last of the smudge.

"Didn' havta be so rough about it." He wiped the excess water off of his face.

"Did too." She countered, tossing the wet napkin at him as penance for his annoyance.

The napkin slapped against his chest, sticking for a moment before flopping down into his lap.

Rogue laughed as he turned his glare to her. "This is war."

Sugar packets were flicked; straw wrappers were propelled off of straws; small, plastic creamer containers were pyramided and then toppled; and booth neighbors were irritated.

"Aw, you got creamer in my hair!" Rogue tugged at her brown curls.

"You got sugar in my jacket pockets!" Remy justified.

"I think we've caused enough trouble here." Rogue snickered, catching the glaring eyes from the next booth over.

"Truce?" Remy offered.

"Truce." Rogue agreed.

"Alright, you go get the creamer out of your hair and I'll take care of the cheque." He ushered her out of the seat and pointed her in the direction of the bathrooms.

"I'll be right back." Rogue called over her shoulder as she walked down the narrow aisle between tables and booths through the packed restaurant.

Remy sat back in his seat and drummed his fingers as he awaited the reappearance of their waiter.

As it so happened, the waiter he was looking for was on the other side of the diner, simultaneously taking an order and initiating a calamitous train of events that could have only been described as pure 'bad luck'.

"Have you decided on your order yet, sir?" The waiter (whose name is Chet, as he had previously introduced himself)

"Actually," The refined-looking man with the sunglasses who was sitting at the table by himself answered. "Could you tell me what the specials are?"

"They're in the menu." Chet pointed to the open menu in front of the man.

"Right." The man rearranged himself uncomfortably. "Could you read them to me then?"

"What?" Chet had been asked to do many things as a waiter, read to a fully grown man was not one of them. For some reason, the concept made him slightly uncomfortable. "Why? What are you, man,—"

"Blind?" Matt Murdock supplied wryly. "As it so happens…"

"Oh," Chet quickly amended. "Sorry, man." If he had been mildly uncomfortable reading to a full grown man, he was extremely uncomfortable with read to a full grown blind man. Images of the vacant stare that the old woman who had lived on his block a child filtered through his mind. He shuddered, trying to not think about milky, cloudy, icky, dull, grey eyes. That stare off into nothingness. Don't focus. Don't look at you when they're talking to you.

It didn't work.

Chet grimaced almost audibly and took an involuntary step backwards.

"Watch out for the-." Matt reached out to pull him forward, but his outstretched hand only caused Chet to shrink back further.

At the precise moment that Chet crashed into an abandoned high chair several things happened at the same time all around the restaurant. A toddler knocked over a pitcher of syrup as he grabbled with his mother over the fork she was attempting to coax into his mouth, spilling the slick, sticky stuff all over the floor. A lone businessman bent over to tie his shoe before he walked out the door. A teenager tugged one time too many on her beaded necklace and the elastic snapped, spilling the purple and blue beads all over her plate, the table, and the floor. A waitress balanced a large, black tray on one hand, using her hip to bump open the door from the kitchen into the sitting area. A gangly busboy mopped up a coffee spill, yellow bucket of dirty water at his side. Remy grew impatient with waiting in the booth and stood to locate the waiter. Rogue was returning from the bathroom, foot up in preparation for the next step. The blond man in the booth directly behind her spared a moment to appreciate her figure. And finally, perhaps most importantly, the door swung shut on the ladies' room right behind a petite blond.

Chet crashed into the highchair, stumbling backwards into the syrup mess which caused he and the chair to go flying in different directions- he falling onto a table, tipping over everything balanced on top of it. The chair clattered the short distance to the businessman, smashing into his shine just as he straightened up from tying his shoe. The businessman cried out in more shock than pain and jumped backwards. Right into the waitress. She and her platter of food went down, the bowl of oatmeal pouring over a teenage girl's head as she bent over her table, attempting to collect the beads of the necklace that just broke. She shrieked like a banshee as the hot oatmeal poured down her hair, jumping up and fighting for balance over the ocean of beads at her feet. Struggling, the lashed out blindly for something to grab, catching the arm of a gangly bus boy. The two of them fell to ground in a ball of limbs and awkward, sending the yellow bucket rolling backwards just in time to ricochet off of Remy's knees and catch Rogue's other foot as she stepped down.

Rogue and the bucket went flying, the bucket spilling dirty water as it spiraled through the air, Rogue plopping down in the blond man's lap.

There was moment of stunned silence as everyone in the restaurant had a moment of 'Did that just _happen?' _before the blond man whose lap Rogue was occupying laughed richly.

"Wow," he grinned at Rogue. "Y'know, people always tell me that I've got good luck, but I didn't believe them until you fell into my lap."

You see, in this world there are bad pickup lines, which are bad, and there are _bad pickup lines, _which, when the planets align, are so fantastically cheesy the woman on the receiving end can only stare in awe.

That, what the blond guy just said, was the latter.

Rogue sat, mystified.

The man laughed again. "Hi, I'm Longshot." He held out his hand to her.

Rogue took it, still in awe.

"And you are?" Longshot prompted after she still hadn't said anything (Or blinked, for that matter)

"Rogue."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl." He grinned again.

Rogue relapsed back into awe.

It was around this point Remy was getting back to his feet. "What in de hell…?" He rubbed the spot on the back of his head that had hit the table. There was a clear path of destruction leading from Matt Murdock, who had resigned himself to just sipping on his water and waiting for Elektra to arrive, over to Rogue, who was still in Longshot's lap.

Remy did a double take. Rogue in blond stranger's lap. Rogue in blond stranger's lap?

He was already rolling up his sleeves as he stomped across the restaurant, skirted aforementioned path of destruction as he went.

"Oh," Rogue noticed his arrival at the edge of the table. "Hi, Remy."

"Rogue," He greeted, tone tight. "We should get goin'."

"This your boyfriend?" Longshot inquired, giving Remy a once over. Remy could practically hear him think '_Meh. I could take him.' _

"N—" Rogue started.

"Y—" Remy started.

However, they were both interrupted by the ladies' room door swinging back open, revealing a petite blond with a blue star over one eye. She looked around with wide eyes that narrowed dangerously when she saw Longshot and, more importantly, the pretty girl in his lap.

"Woah!" Longshot shot up, ditching Rogue in Remy's arms. "Dazzler! Baby!"

"What's this?" The woman, Dazzler, demanded.

"She fell!" Longshot put his hands out in a 'Not my fault!' gesture.

"_Into your lap?_" She shrieked.

"Uh…" Longshot swallowed. "Help me out here, guys." He stage-whispered to Rogue and Remy.

"He's telling the truth," Rogue supplied, smiling innocently. It hadn't worked for Remy earlier with the strawberries; it wasn't working for her now. "Honest. Y'see, that waiter kid over there jumped back and ran into a high chair, falling over-."

"Oh, save it, skank!" Dazzler snapped.

"Skank?" Rogue repeated. "Oh, nu-uh, honey." She marched forward, yanking at her glove.

"Ladies, ladies, ladies," Remy stepped in front of Rogue, intercepting the beeline she was making towards Dazzler. "Please." He intoned tiredly.

"I'm cool with letting them fight it out." Longshot commented offhandedly.

That seemed to be the last straw for Dazzler.

She screamed and the was some sort of magnificent explosion of lights and pain. Well, the lights were magnificent, the pain was… painful...

* * *

Piotr Rasputin had one job and one job only.

With the entirety of the mansion waiting with baited breath for Logan to come marching back in through the front door, Rogue held bridal style in his arms, cigar perched in the corner of his mouth, and the dead body of the kidnapper lashed to his motorcycle, everyone was getting pretty tired of waiting around.

As they were getting pretty tired, they were getting pretty hungry.

Piotr's one job was to get breakfast.

He had been severely informed by Jubilation Lee that if he did not return with food within the next half hour, she was going to resort to eating children.

He didn't know whether she was kidding or not, but he decided not to take the chance.

So, he had decided to call ahead and order small amounts of food from many restaurants, rather than having all of the food prepared at a single one. This provided a variety of food to choose from and one single restaurant wasn't burdened with that many orders.

Yes, Piotr had though he had been hit by a stroke of genius before he realized that this left him with three minutes to collect from each restaurant before Jubilee started eating children.

He shifted uncomfortably as he stood in the front of the diner, waiting anxiously for the food he was sent to collect.

He glanced down at his watch.

Two minutes left.

"I am sorry to be intrusive," He said to the woman behind the counter in his thick Russian accent. "But, could you perhaps check to see if my order has arrived yet?" He asked hopefully.

"It gets here when it gets here." The woman said monotonously, not looking up from her magazine.

Piotr sighed heavily, shoulders drooping.

What about _the children? _

"Carry out order for… uh… says here 'Pie tin Rat spitting'?" A greasy looking kitchen hand called, plopping two large brown bags on the front counter.

It took Piotr a few seconds to realize this was his order.

He graciously thanked the woman behind the counter and grabbed the bag.

However, the very second his hand grazed the bag, there was a magnificent explosion of light from the back of the restaurant, causing Piotr to fall backward, covering his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, perhaps a minute later, he realized that a good quarter of the restaurant had been reduced to rubble and there were two dusty people arguing very, very loudly as they walked towards him.

"My fault, my fault, may fault!" The man shouted. "It can't always be my fault, _chere! _This one was on you and the blond manwhore!"

"Well, it certainly wasn' _mah _fault that half the diner got blown away!" The woman snapped following closely behind him.

"Maybe not _you _directly, but catastrophe just seem t' follow you around!" The man stomped past Piotr, waving his hands around wildly as he kicked open the front door.

"Ah nevah had problems like this when I didn' know _you!" _The girl snarled, following after the man.

Piotr shot up, realizing who the girl was.

"Rogue!" He shouted, smiling grandly.

"And I ain't neva' met a _femme _as infuriatin' as you in all my life!" The man shouted, drowning out Piotr.

Rogue snorted out something offensive as the front door swung shut.

Piotr stood up in the dusty restaurant, where everyone was still reeling from another case of the 'Did that just _happen?_'s.

He looked from the door to the bag of food trapped under some drywall.

Find Rogue or Save the Children.

He groaned loudly as he steeled over and started rooting through drywall.

_

* * *

_

I love Longshot. I love Piotr. I love lamp.


	15. Killjoy,She will literally kill your joy

_DRUM ROLL PLEASE. _

* * *

They trudged forward, scowls set, arms crossed, silence thick. Nothing had been said out loud since Rogue had called Remy a 'Impulsive, annoying, egotistical, good-for-nothing Cajun Swamp Rat!' and he had promptly returned with 'Infuriating, certifiably insane, trouble-causin' Mississippi River Rat!'. However, a few choice glares had been fired from both parties.

And so, they trudged. The thought of maintaining the physical proximity_ '_Selene' would have forced them to made them both almost physically ill.

And so, they trudged. Past windows and buildings and people, neither one of them knowing where they were going, just knowing that they sure as hell weren't going to let the other one lead them there.

And so, they trudged. Past shops and cafes and restaurants. They didn't know for how long exactly they stomped along, but neither of them was going to stop and ask the other for the time.

And so, they trudged.

They trudged until Remy noticed a storm drain tucked up next to the curb, rusted and eroded away into practically nothingness.

"Watch your step, _chere_," He turned to offer hand and help in gentlemanly decency (As dictated as necessity by 'Things _Tante _Mattie Will Tan Your Hide For').

And that was when he noticed that she wasn't walking beside him any more.

"Rogue?" The metallic taste of panic brushed his tongue as he looked around wildly, heart beat picking up a quicker tempo, cards miraculously materializing between his fingers as he searched the faces of the crowd. "_Chere!"_

Rogue wasn't there.

He forced himself to take a deep breath and _think _about this.

Think about how he had barely known this girl for eight hours (an hour and a half of which he had been asleep). Think about how it was more likely that she had taken the opportunity to slip away and head back home rather than having been kidnapped (however prone she seemed to be to people just snatching her up. Hell, he'd practically kidnapped her, too.) Think about how he shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty if she _had _happened to get herself stolen again (it wasn't _his _fault she attracted that weird brand of attention). Think about how he wasn't _responsible _for her. She was a big kid. She could take care of herself. And it didn't matter how pretty he thought her hair was, or how nice he thought she looked in that red dress, or how cute he thought he rise of blood in her cheeks was when she was about to scream a profanity, or how fun it was to wind her up, they were still practically _strangers. _

He breathed out shakily, accepting this train of logic.

Of course, none of that 'logic' nonsense stopped him from taking off at a sprint when he noticed a streak of white in the density of the crowd.

She had stopped in front of a shop window. Just frozen to the spot. Usually this kind of thing didn't happen to her, not anymore. She'd had years and days and agonizing seconds to build up an armor to these things. But sometimes, when she wasn't paying attention, she smallest things pierced straight through her chest plate and left a raw, bloody gaping wound where her heart used to be.

"Rogue-." Remy panted as he jogged up to her side.

"Shh..." She put her finger to her lips, not looking up at him.

He followed her eyes and winced.

"Do you think our mutations develop for a reason?" Rogue asked as she stared at a woman sitting in the bookstore, sunk into a comfortably overstuffed chair, a book on maternity perched on her seven months swelled belly. A smile played across her lips that Rogue felt she would never be able to truly grasp. Is that what motherhood felt like? "Like, I can't touch anyone because it saves me the pain of knowing that no one would _want _to touch me?"

The '_BAD FEELING' _that was shared between the two of them amplified to almost crippling measures as a man walked up to the woman. Her face brightened to a blinding shade of happiness as he smoothed his hand over her hair, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and handed her a cup of coffee.

"Rogue?" Remy practically tasted her name.

She blinked a few times and turned to him, it finally dawning on her that she was being a huge downer.

"Sorry." She laughed awkwardly. "I do that sometimes..."

"You shouldn't have to." He took her gloved hand in his, firmly keeping it in his grasp even as she tried to slip away, uncomfortable with the intensity of his eyes. "You're a beautiful girl, Rogue." He informed, almost positive that she wasn't told often enough. Of course, he was under the impression that if the only words spoken to her for the rest of her left were simply to tell her how beautiful she was, it still wouldn't be often enough. "Y'r strong and fiery, and occasionally y' have moments where y' can be funny an' smart. I don't see why anyone _wouldn' _want t' touch you."

She blushed crimson, finally prying her hand out of his. "I- uh..." She stuttered, looking at the ground, at the sky, back at the window. Anywhere but at him. "I'm sorry I called you a good for nothing Cajun swamp rat." She finally managed.

"I'm sorry I called you a certifiably insane Mississippi river rat." He grinned at her.

"Uh...Remy?" Rogue breathed, blush spreading down her neck.

"_Oui?_"

"I think we've been figured out." She laughed shakily.

Remy followed her eyes to realize that the obscenely pregnant woman and her coffee boy (husband?) had finally noticed that two people were standing outside the window staring at them.

"Hi." Remy forced a smile and Rogue followed suit. "Just two strangers starin' at yah through a window. Nothing weird here."

They backed away quickly and as inconspiciously (read: totally conspicuosly) as possible.

"It would be nice to have a family like that..." Rogue considered as they made their escape.

"I wouldn' know." Remy shrugged. "Closest thing I ever had to a mother was this ol' swamp witch named Mattie."

Rogue laughed. "She couldn't have been half as bad as _my _moth-" She was interrupted by a blue flash and Remy spiraling through the display window of the department store they were currently strolling next to. She threw her arms up to shield herself from the spray of glass as she stumbled to the ground in shock.

The crowds of normal people screamed and dispersed, trampling and knocking Rogue down as she tried to stand.

"Let- meh- up!" She gasped as she was tripped again.

"I gotcha." Someone called to her, grabbing her elbow, hauling her up right.

"Thanks." She mumbled blearily to the stra-, she looked up and realized she _exactly _who the man holding her was. "John!"

"I suggest we get in there _pronto._" John suggested, dragging her to the display window.

* * *

"I swear to whatever god you pray to, if you touched a single hair on her head I will _castrate you!"_ The blue woman standing over Remy screamed.

"_Who the hell _are_ you?" _Remy demanded in desperate confusion from his spot on the destroyed sweater display, afraid to get up while the harpy looming above him had a hunting knife pressed to his throat. He took threats of castration _very _seriously.

"Mama!" Rogue shouted as she scaled the window.

"Mama?" Remy and John chorused.

"Stay out of this, Marie." Mystique growled.

"Marie?" Remy and John said again.

"Put down the knife and let Remy go!_" _Rogue snapped.

"Remy?" Mystique sneered. "_Remy? _Marie, he sounds like some exotic dancer you'd meet at a run down cabana. There's no way that going with this boy can be any good for you!"

Remy was about to protest out of pure offense at being compared to an exotic dancer (especially one that worked at a run down cabana. If anything, it'd be a damn expensive place) but quickly made the wise decision to just keep his mouth shut when a certain yellow glare was directed his way.

"Mama!" Rogue seemed mortified. "Remy and I are not 'going' anywhere!"

"He held you hostage!" Mystique pointed out, vexation abundant in her tone.

"Fake hostage, mama!" Rogue huffed. "I wasn' ever in any actual danger!"

"Are you telling me that you continuing to travel with him out of your own volition?" Mystique's eyes narrowed.

"Uh..." Rogue glanced to Remy for some help. Remy just shrugged. Hell if he knew the right answer. "Yes?"

"That was an awful big question mark there, Marie." Snapped Mystique. "Did you go with him willingly or did he force you?" The blade was held in the ready position.

"I went with him." Rogue supplied. "Willingly."

Mystique looked up in disbelief. "Why?"

"'Cause I like 'im." Rogue fabricated quickly. "He saved my life and I just fell head over heels in love." She looked up at Mystique with a pair of big doe eyes and batted her eyelashes. "So would you let him up, Mama? Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaassseee?" She pouted.

Mystique rolled her eyes. "You used to pull that when you were a child-"

"And I wanted chocolate cake." Rogue grinned. "I remember."

A ghost of a smile graced Mystique's lips. "Alright." She permitted, sheathing the knife and holding out a hand to help Remy up. Remy eyed her for a moment before taking the hand as a gesture of good will. Mystique hauled him up so that her lips were level with his ear. "If you touch or speak to that girl in any way I see as unfit I will put a bullet in between your third and fourth ribs from five hundred feet." She pat him on the back and turned back to her daughter, leaving behind a wide eyed Cajun.

"Bye, mama." Rogue hugged the older woman.

"I'll swing by the mansion next week and take you and Irene out to lunch, hmm?" She smiled and kissed her daughter's hair. "It'll be fun and she's been missing you."

"Alright." Rogue grinned.

Mystique nodded once, shot Remy a glare and a 'I'll be watching you' gesture, and hopped out the window. She was a Russian businesswoman before she touched the ground, broken glass crunching under her pumps as she swaggered away.

"I don' think your _mere _like me very much." Remy swallowed.

"Are you kidding?' Rogue laughed. "You should have seen what she did to the first boy that broke up with me. You got off easy."

Remy chuckled with her, neither of noticing John sneaking up behind Remy, wielding a mannequin arm like a baseball bat until he swung.

"Ow!" Remy yelpped as the arm struck the back of his head. "The hell?" He whipped around and jerked the disembodied limb out of John's hand. "Did you just try to beat me unconscious with an arm?"

"Sorry, mate..." John scuffed his boot against the floor. "That usually works in the stories."

"Does this look like a story to you?" Remy snapped, rubbing the lump on the back of his head.

"Right... well..." John scrubbed the back of his neck. "I still gotta turn you in ta Magneto."

"Right." Remy recalled, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Why don't y' just tell 'im that you couldn't turn me in 'cause you were unconscious?"

John's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would I tell 'im-" Remy punched him in the face.

"Remy!" Rogue gasped in outrage, scrambling to John's side.

"What?" Remy put his hands up in a 'what could I do?' gesture. "It was 'im or me!"

"You didn't have to hit him like that!" Rogue shouted.

"Y'r right! I should have hit him with the arm!" Remy smacked himself in the forehead. "Opportunity wasted."

"You don't havta be such a jackass!" Rogue snorted.

"Jackass?" Remy looked affronted, putting his hands on his hips, the mannequin arm sticking out disjointedly from where he still held it at the shoulder. "Are you callin' _moi _a jackass?"

"Yes!" She hissed.

"Then what does that make you?" He inquired. "A good ol' southern girl who lies t' her own mother?"

"I would never lie to my mother!" Rogue gasped in affront, standing and planting her hands on her hips, mirroring him (minus the extra arm).

"Yeah?" Remy challenged, taking a step closer.

"Yeah!" She rose to the occasion, glaring him down as she took a step forward to match his, their noses practically touching.

"I just heard you tell 'er that you were in love with me." He pointed out smugly.

Rogue gasped and turned a color of crimson that matched her dress. "That's different!" She protested, eyes narrowing dangerously as she clenched her fists. "I did that to save your arrogant hide!" She raved. "Because I would never, _ever_, not in a million _years _say that I loved-."

They weren't really sure who kissed who.

Just one second she was screaming bloody murder at him and the next her fingers were tangled in his hair, his hands were at her waist and be _damned _the consequences. Because the second, the moment where her lips were against his, was worth it.

They both braced themselves for the pull, and...

And...

And, what?

Rogue pushed Remy off of her, face painted every color of confusion.

"Wha-?" She breathed, touching her lips. "I didn'.. I did'n absorb you..." Her brow furrowed even further. "How?"

Remy, a big fan of the 'When life gives you lemons' mantra, pulled her back into another kiss, not really caring about the 'How'.

"What if it turns back on?" She pushed him away again.

"Who cares?" He asked, leaning forward.

"I don' wanna hurt you." Rogue kept him back with her hands on his chest. "And what-." She paled. "What if there's something wrong with me and my mutation's not working?" She started fretting.

Remy sighed, running his hand down his face.

After all of that _effort _she wasn't going to let him even kiss her.

"C'mon." He tugged on her hand, leading her out the window. "I know a guy."

* * *

_They can touch! Yaaaaay! _

_Oh lawd, the mental image of Remy standing with his fists on his hips, holding a mannequin arm while looking severely irate just tickles me. Oh, if I had any artistic ability whatsoever..._

_Hmm... Who is this 'guy' Remy knows? How can he help? I'll give you a hint, he's scrawny, he's dorky, he used to be Eric Bana (hottttt) and you asked for 'em. _


	16. It was clever 'til you opened your mouth

_I have bad news. Like, really, _really _bad news. _

_Er… Guess who has Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from typing so much in an odd hand position! (Hint: It's me.) I guess that's what I get for writing six stories at once (You: 'But, Jamie… you're only writing two stories right now…" Me: "I'm only _posting _two stories. *waggly eyebrows*")_

_I'm not supposed to be typing. Like, at all. I'm writing this up in super secret (and it hurts like a mother)and I can't write anything else until I'm a-okay. (Because, guess what? Apparently Carpal Tunnel is a big deal. Who knew? When I first found out, I started laughing, but everyone else was all like 'This is super cereal. You could have permanent damage. Never be able to use your wrist again. Major surgery. So, stop fucking typing.)_

_So, I'm posting what I have of this chapter because I didn't want to be all lame and just leave you guys with this note, but this is the last you'll have of me until the Carpal Tunnel decides to go away. (Does Carpal Tunnel just go away? ... I should probably know that, shouldn't I?... Meh. I'll do some research or something…)_

_ANYWAYS! Here's the chapter, or, what I'd written of it before Da Tunnel reaped on me. Sorry if it's not funny, it's kinda only half done and HOLY GOD WHAY AM I TYPING SO MUCH? AAAAHHHHHOOOOOWWW._

* * *

"Bruce!" Remy's fist pounded into the wood of the front door of yet another decrepit looking apartment. Rogue was standing a few feet back from him with reservation, having fallen into a sort of daze since they'd kissed. "Bruce! I swear, if you don' open this door right this secon'—"

The door cracked open a fraction of its ability, halted by the locked chain.

"I'm curious." Bruce Banner peered out from the crack in the door. "What is it exactly you plan to do when I don't open the door?"

"I'll—" Remy held up his fist. "I'll—" It dawned on him that he had very little to plausibly threaten the scrawny man in front of him with. "I'll make fun of that stupid apron you wear when you bake!" He finally hissed in triumph.

"You take that back!" Bruce yanked open the door, revealing a pink apron with a sadfaced rabbit with the text 'Somebunny needs a cookie' bubbled across the front. "This apron is _genius!_"

"I know you're busy being antisocial and mopey," Remy growled in his throat. "But, I'm at the end of my rope. And I'm gonna use the little bit I have left t' hang m'self if I don' get this sorted out _now._" He snarled, flexing his hands in and out of fists.

Bruce eyed him skeptically. "Am I sensing some sexual frustration?" He grinned cheekily.

Remy made as if he were going to strangle the other man but reminded himself that the wiser decision would be to approach this diplomatically (re: Don't kill him, don't get killed by him.) so instead, he took a deep breath and counted to ten, which was usually Bruce's shtick.

"Bruce," Remy started again, taking a step back and gently guiding Rogue, who still looked completely thunderstruck, forward. "This is Rogue." He lifted her arm by the elbow and waved it sloppily at Bruce. Rogue didn't seem to notice or care.

"Uh…" Bruce was starting to wonder where exactly this was going. "Hello, Rogue."

"Rogue here is a mutant." Remy continued to explain. "Her mutation deprives her of the ability t' touch without rendering the other person unconscious. She 'absorbs' them, so to speak, takin' away memories and speakin' patterns, and wit' mutants, their mutations as well."

"…Alright." Bruce allowed dubiously.

"And she has no control." Remy added.

"Really?" Bruce's interest was piqued in spite of himself. That meant he and that girl had something in common. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

Remy held up one finger before prying off Rogue's glove and slapping her bare hand on the side of his face.

Bruce waited.

Remy smeared her hand around for added effect when absolutely nothing happened.

Rogue blinked, starting to come back to reality. "The hell are you doing?" She snatched her hand back from him.

"Proving a point," Remy took her by the shoulders and guided her in front of him, looking over the top of her head at Bruce, who was just confused enough to find out what was going on. "Something's wrong, and since you're the only doctor I know—"

"I'm not really a 'doctor'." Bruce explained quickly, realizing what was being asked of him. "I'm a physicist. 'Doctor' just sort of came with the degree. I'm not really qualified for this sort of-"

Remy knocked his elbow into Rogue's ribs, giving her the cue that 'Plan B' was now in effect as Bruce continued to babble.

"But, Dr. Banner," Rogue frowned, looking up at Bruce from her eyelashes, clasping her hands fretfully under her chin. "Ah can't go tah the hospital 'cause Ah'm a mutant an' they wouldn't treat me real good." She purposefully put inflection on her accent. "An' what if it's somethin' real serious?" She gasped, eyes glossing over with crocodile tears. "What if I _die?" _

"What if she _dies?_" Remy repeated, tilting his head and making his own pathetic face. "Help her?"

"_Pleeeeaaaaaasssssseee?" _They both chorused, successfully looking like kicked puppies.

Bruce winced, looked away, looked back, winced again, wondered if they'd practiced this routine, looked back, shuddered slightly, and finally caved. Because, really, who could say no to those faces? Not him, that's for damn sure.

"I'll see what I can do." He sighed in defeat. "it's not like I have anything better to do with _my life." _

"Yes!" Remy fist pumped in victory and Rogue did a small dance before they both high-fived.

"_But—_" Bruce intoned, cutting them off. "I'm not making any promises." He warned them.

"Fair enough." Remy shrugged.

"Do I smell something burning?" Rogue sniffed the air.

"My cookies!" Bruce gasped and bolted, pink apron fluttering in the wind, door left ajar.

Remy and Rogue stood in the hallway.

Remy gestured to the open door in a sort of '_Ladies first'_.

Rogue eyed the door tentatively in a sort of _'But we weren't really invited in...' _

He rolled his eyes and scoffed in a sort of '_Scardy cat'_.

She put her hands on her hips in a sort of _'Am not!'_.

He grinned in a sort of '_Are too.'_

Rogue huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she stomped into the apartment in a sort of _'Bite me'. _

Remy chuckled and followed after her in a sort of _'Anytime.' _

Rogue stood awkwardly in the center of what was probably a living room underneath all of the clutter, looking around skeptically. There was junk absolutely everywhere. Not normal junk like dirty clothing or spent pizza boxes, _weird _junk like beakers and busted stress balls and _papers. _ She picked up one of the sheets of paper and was greeted with a short, gruesome description of a starfish's ability to regenerate completely even under the extreme duress of being cut in half.

"Charming." She placed the paper back down next to a picture of a beautiful young woman with black hair, which seemed to be the only well kept item in the room.

"Bruce is usually pretty organized." Remy shrugged, trailing his finger distractedly along the side of the fish tank, the little gold fish inside devotedly following his hand from the other side of the glass. "Must have had a bad day recently."

"Huh." Rogue allowed, not really wanting to ask what a bad day in the Banner household entailed considering the very strong command from Remy early to 'Don't make 'im angry. Ever. Jus' don't do it. I tried it once. Worst decision of my life. Well, no. Not _the_ worst_. _Top four, easy. Maybe five. Anyway, don't try it_._'

"Saved 'em!" Bruce clucked happily to himself, sweeping out of the 'kitchen' with a plate full of only very slightly burned cookies. "Baking helps relieve stress." He informed them, holding out the plate to them.

Remy took a cookie graciously and motioned for Rogue to do the same.

When Rogue happened to glace back there, she noticed that the entirety of the kitchen was absolutely covered with baked goods.

"I keep my equipment in the spare room," Bruce pulled the apron over his head and hung it up, ushering them towards the back bedrooms.

Remy whistled appreciatively as he flicked on the lights of the spare room. "You hold up a hospital?" He snorted over his shoulder at Bruce, eyebrow rising on his forehead as he took in what must have been a fortune and a half of medical equipment.

"I guess we never stop searching for a way to cure ourselves." Bruce looked around at the stolen equipment, as if seeing it for the first time. "I've got enough here to test blood and radiation, but if your problem stretches beyond anything out of normal physical health, I don't think I'll be able to help you." Bruce turned to Rogue.

Rogue put a sympathetic hand on Bruce's shoulder, knowing exactly what he had meant about searching.

Remy eyed her hand from the other side of the room. A weird thought struck him. If she could touch now, what happened?

Remy flopped down on the couch, the only place to sit other than the table on the other side of the room, and brooded on this very thought.

Did it change anything?

Remy munched on his cookie and made a face when he only got burned bits.

"Have a seat on the table and I'll see what I can do." Bruce smiled at Rogue.

* * *

A half an hour later Bruce informed her that there was absolutely nothing physically wrong with her.

"I mean, I can't really get a good look at your brain, but everything seems to be fine." Bruce shrugged as he tossed his stethoscope on the table next to Rogue, who had been forced to take off her shoes, tights, sweater, and gloves.

Rogue huffed a disgruntled sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

Remy grinned from his spot on the couch, eating on a slice of pound cake and enjoying the view.

"I want to try one last thing." Bruce told Rogue.

"M'kay." Rogue said hesitantly.

Bruce put out his bare hand.

"Touch me."

Remy was on his feet now, cake forgotten as he materialized at her side. "You don't have to." He informed her, noting her discomfort.

"No." Rogue shook her head. "I'll do it." She reached a shaky hand out to Bruce's, telling herself that if there was nothing wrong with her than it would be fine. She swept her bare fingers across Bruce's palm.

"Woah." Bruce stumbled backwards, holding his head.

"I'm sorry!" Rogue muttered quickly, clutching her own head where a vague impression of Bruce Banner had imprinted itself, the touch not lasting long enough for anything else. "I didn't mean tah—"

"No, no, it's fine." Bruce waved off her concern.

Remy frowned at her, snatching up her wrist.

"What are you-?" Rogue was about to protest as he laid out his bare hand against hers.

Still nothing.

"Why doesn't it work on you?" Rogue pouted, flustered.

Remy's brow furrowed, but he had no ready response.

"Wait," Bruce interrupted. "If your mutation still has effect on me, and you're physically fine, you know what that means?" He grinned.

Remy paled. "It's not you, it's me."

* * *

A half an hour later, Remy and Rogue had switched positions, Rogue sitting on the couch, happily nibbling on a slice of pecan pie as she kicked her bare feet back and forth, grinning, and Remy scowling from his spot on top of the table, shirtless.

"Interesting." Bruce hovered next to the computer screen.

"Interesting enough for me to put my shirt back on?" Remy muttered under his breath.

"It's almost as if your mutation has creates some sort of static barrier that blocks out her mutation." Bruce explained. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"So I can touch him?" Rogue piped up. "Nothing's wrong with either of us?"

"I can touch her?" Remy repeated, and the real weight of the situation hit him. "I'm the _only _person who can touch her?"

"It would appear to be the case." Bruce shrugged.

The clouds parted and a ray of sunshine fell down on Remy LeBeau. He chuckled deviously, almost a full blown maniacal laugh, rubbing his hands together subtly.

"Wait a second." Rogue glared at him, cutting off his scheming. "Are you thinkin' that just 'cause you're the only person I can touch, Ah'm jus' gonna settle f'r yah like some sort of loose slut?" She demanded, absolutely furious that he would think so little of her.

Remy hesitated. "I'm sensing the correct answer here is 'no'."

"_Damn straight it's no!_" She screamed, chucking a textbook in his general direction.

"Woah! _Chere!" _Remy ducked under the book, hopping off the table and taking shelter behind the bookshelf.

"_What kind a' woman do you take me for?" _She shrilled, throwing absolutely anything she could get her hands on.

"_Chere!"_ Remy jumped to avoid a flying plate of pecan pie. "Rogue!" A fork smacked him in the forehead. "Ow."He rubbed the red spot. "Anytime you wanna jump in."He glared over at Bruce, who was leaning against a wall.

"You seem to have in handled."Bruce munched on a brownie contentedly.

"Ah!"Remy squeaked, throwing himself to the floor as she hurled a microscope at him.

"You think that just because you're my only option that _you're my_ only_ option?_" She demanded, absolutely irate.

"_Beau,_" Remy soothed in a placating tone from his spot hidden behind the couch. "Remy didn' mean nothin' by it." He assured, taking up the role of 'appeaser' now that they were having a fight that was _actually _about something. "And he surely don' expect y' t' jus' settle f'r 'im!" Since inanimate objects of the room had ceased to become airborne, he hazarded standing, rising to find her, seething, in the middle of the room.

"Ah'll have you know, Mr. LeBeau," She snorted, stomping forward and prodding him in the chest harshly until she had him pinned against the wall, swallowing thickly. "That Ah will kiss anyone I damn well please."

She grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him long and hard.

"Ah hate you." She hissed when she pulled away before stomping out of the door.

"I…"Remy stared after her. "I'm so confused." He looked over at Bruce.

Bruce shrugged.

* * *

_So, while you were reading, I did some research. Apparently Carpal Tunnel is a big deal… I should probably stop typing now…_

_Right now._

_Annnnd now._

_This time, I swear._

_WAIT! Sorry this sucked so much. Pity me. I'm in pain. And my hand tingles. ow. ow. ow. _


End file.
